Baby was very ill all night.  Everything was shut up on account of the torrents of rain, so that the heat was almost insufferable, and we tossed and tumbled about in the most miserable manner.

Monday, January 8th.—­All the early part of the morning we were in the greatest anxiety about Baby; she could hardly draw her breath, and lay in her cot, or on her nurse’s lap, almost insensible, and quite blue in the face, in spite of the application of mustard, hot water, and every remedy we could think of.  The influenza with her has taken the form of bronchitis and pleurisy.  The other children are still ailing.  Heavy squalls of wind and rain, and continuous rolling, prevailed throughout the day.

Tuesday, January 9th.—­The wind fell light, and the weather improved; but we tumbled about more than ever.  The thermometer in the nursery stood at 90 deg..  The children are a shade better.

Wednesday, January 10th.—­Very hot, and a flat calm.  Steam was up at 7.30 a.m.  Mabelle is convalescent; Muriel not so well; Baby certainly better.  In the afternoon one of the boiler-tubes burst.  It was repaired, and we went on steaming.  In the evening it burst again, and was once more repaired, without causing a long stoppage.

(Thursday, January 11th, had no existence for us, as, in the process of crossing the 180th meridian, we have lost a day.)

Friday, January 12th.—­Wednesday morning with us was Tuesday evening with people in England, and we were thus twelve hours in advance of them.  To-day the order of things is reversed, and we are now twelve hours behind our friends at home.  Having quitted one side of the map of the world (according to Mercator’s projection), and entered upon the other half, we begin to feel that we are at last really ’homeward bound.’

At four a.m.  Powell woke us with the announcement that the boiler-tube had again burst, and that we had consequently ceased steaming.  Letting off steam, and blowing out the boiler, made a tremendous noise, which aroused everybody in the ship.  It was a lovely morning, but a flat calm, and the sun rose magnificently.  The few light clouds near the surface of the water caught and reflected the rays of light most brilliantly before the sun itself appeared, and assumed all manner of fanciful shapes.

About six o’clock a very light breeze sprang up, which increased during the day; but the sea remained perfectly calm.  We think we must have got into the trade again.  This weather is indeed a luxury after all the knocking about we have lately gone through; and I feel as if I could never rest enough.  The constant effort to maintain one’s balance, whether sitting, standing, or moving about, has been most fatiguing, and the illness of the children has made matters worse.  Baby is, I hope, now quite out of danger.