And then? And then? I had never been in London before. Long ere the ship was steadied at the anchorage Mr. Charles Goode came on board to see his brother and his wife and family. He brought the letters that had come from the colony. For me there were five, all in black. My dear brother died soon after I had left Adelaide. There was one dictated by himself, wishing that[Pg 105] I would come back, if only to see how his five little children would get along. The necessities of human existence had to be grasped. This suddenly put all thoughts of the Continent out of my head. I knew I would have to leave the ship. I was sorrowing; and everyone I knew was going out of the ship. I thought I was going to be ill. So much had gone wrong, and I was face to face with trouble. When I looked in my lap I found a good few sovereigns that one and another had left there while my eyes were filled with tears. Some of the ladies told me before we got into the dock that anything they left in their cabins would be for me either to sell or otherwise dispose of. When some people came to see if I had anything to sell I told the carpenter of the ship to do what he liked with them. I was in too much grief at my painful loss to care for them. My brother was only about 30 years of age when he died. I went and saw the Rev. Dr. Oswald Dykes, D.D., at Oakley-square. I had some mourning made at once and went from shipping office to shipping office to get a berth to return to South Australia any how I could manage it. I had a nice letter with the signature of Captain Bruce. And the passengers also subscribed their names to a testimonial as to my capability on the sea. Then I had a parchment, with writing on it, from the owners of the South Australian, from their head office in London. I have that yet. It was a terrible time. If I could have got a chance I would have returned at once. I did not care whether it was in a steamboat or not.

After a few days waiting I saw Captain Alstone, of the City of Adelaide, who was taking his wife and a little child in his ship to Adelaide. I agreed to be the lady\'s maid for my passage back to South Australia. But they were not likely to start for a month or six weeks. It was a sailing vessel also, and I saw the captain\'s wife and her dear little boy. I adore children. And the lady was the most perfectly lovely woman I ever looked upon. So I had most of my things put on board the ship. The month of May had just began. I had some letters of introduction from some friends in Adelaide to their friends in Bradford, near Manchester. I had also with me some letters from friends in Adelaide to their relatives, with cordial wishes that I would go and see them if I went to Glasgow. Before I left South Australia I formed the resolution to go and see my husband\'s relations. I had their addresses through writing to John all the long three years he was there. Their place was in Cambridgeshire. I gave Captain Alstone the address that would find me if the ship went before the month.

I have kept a record of that time by me ever since. I was close to the Tower of London; and there was no charge, so I went in about 11 o\'clock and was there till 4 o\'clock. I was on the move all the time, and then did not see half of that stronghold. Oh! the grandeur and the horrors of it. It was wonderful to think[Pg 106] what strife and passion had done during the events of the dark ages of violence and torture. There were men dressed so queerly, with long staves in their hands—the Yeomen of the Guard—who showed the visitors where persons we read of in history were imprisoned. Then the various kinds of armor were arranged in distinctive collections, according to the various periods; while there were all sorts of weapon—swords, and daggers, and axes, with breast and back plates. I saw the torture-room and the awful block and the axe which cut off the heads. It was too grim an atmosphere in which to think of either honor or glory in that fortress of chapels, and vaults and recesses, with dungeons about and beneath the building. What scenes some must have gone through while in their prison lodging. I saw the Queen\'s crown and her sceptre, which is said to be made of pure gold, and ever so many more things of which I have forgotten the names. There was quite a fence all round them, and some of the guards were watchful all the time. There were kings and knights on horseback, just as if they were off to the war. It would have taken a week to see it all. One thing I will never forget. Just as I was coming out at the gate one of the officials in charge of the place came after me and touched me on the shoulder. He asked if I had lost my keys. I looked in my handbag and found that I had. He said if I would come back I could have them. I was thankful, for otherwise I should have had to have the locks of my trunks taken off. I asked him how he knew that I had lost the keys. He replied that he knew that I was a stranger, as he had never seen me there before.

"But," I said, "the place was crowded."

"Yes," he replied, "but most of those people come here every day."

I only saw a few of the sights of London. I could not imagine being in London as everything seemed so uncertain there. What a place to be alone in London is. I decided to go to Cambridge, or, rather, a place a little out of Cambridge, called March. All my curiosity in that great city of London was lost amid my tangled affairs. I made enquiry and found out about the train service. I determined that anyway I would chance seeing the people, although I hardly expected that they would care to see me after what had occurred. I knew I had loved and suffered, but I had not sinned. Then why should I not see them? I arrived at what seemed a wayside station when it was a bit late. I asked where Mr. George Allen\'s house was, and was told that his farm was three miles distant. There was an hotel there, and I asked for a room for the night. I did not want to meet people who might show some aloofness till the following morning. In my portmanteaus there was some printed matter, showing th............