The man paused now and then at the rail.  The Irish coast was not far away, and the lights of ships could be seen, westward bound.  The minister tried to follow in his mind these little floating worlds; but they were too slow.  Like the lightning he crossed the Atlantic and then with the same speed flew half way across the American continent to a big, black, busy city roaring with the traffic of men.  Then out a few miles to the college, where he as a young divinity student had spent some years of his early manhood—­and there and then he had met her—­Also, years later, the woman whom he had married—­and at each big milestone in his journey of life there had been “Mormons” and “Mormonism.”

“‘Mormonism,’ ‘Mormonism,’” the man whispered hoarsely.  “Anna—­Clara—­Lucy—­Chester—­and now—­and now what!  O, my God!”

It was nearly midnight when Lucy, becoming alarmed at her father’s long absence from his state room, came slowly on deck, stopping now and then to rest.  She saw him by the rail, went up to him, took him by the arm and with a few coaxing words led him down into his room.  As he kissed her good-night with uncommon fervor, he looked into her upturned face and said: 

“Are you going to love this young man—­Chester Lawrence?”

“Father,” she cried, “what do you mean?”

“Just what I say.  I am not blind.  I made him promise not to seek your company or talk religion to you.  Tomorrow I shall relieve him from that promise.”

“O, father!”

“There now, child,—­and Lucy, he may talk of religion and love all he wants.  I think those two things, when they are of the right kind and properly blended, are good for the heart, don’t you?”

“Yes, thank you, dear daddy—­we are so near England now that I may call you daddy.”

“Then good-night, my girl;” and he kissed her again in the doorway.

CHAPTER VII.

But next morning there was no time to talk of either love or religion for Chester and Lucy.

The coast of Ireland had been sighted earlier than had been expected, and there was the usual straining of eyes landward.  Chester was among the first to see the dark points on the horizon which the seamen said was the Irish coast, and which as the vessel approached, expanded to green hills, dotted with whitened houses.  This then was Europe, old, historic Europe, land of our forefathers, land of the stories and the songs that have come down to us from the distant past.

“Good morning.  What do you think of Ireland?” Lucy touched his arm.

“Oh, good morning.  You are up early.”

“I am feeling so fine this morning that I had to get up and join in the cry of ‘Land ho.’  No matter how pleasant an ocean voyage has been, we are always pleased to see the land.  Besides, we get off at Queenstown.”

“What!” exclaimed Chester.  “I thought you were bound for Liverpool?”