And yet it was not altogether like home, either, because so many members of the family were away.

We missed some pleasant faces which we would rather have found at dinner, and at night there were gaps in the euchre-parties which could not be satisfactorily filled.

"Moult" was in England, Jack in Switzerland, Charley in Spain.

Blucher was gone, none could tell where.

But we were at sea again, and we had the stars and the ocean to look at, and plenty of room to meditate in.
In due time the shores of Italy were sighted, and as we stood gazing from the decks, early in the bright summer morning, the stately city of Genoa rose up out of the sea and flung back the sunlight from her hundred palaces.
Here we rest for the present--or rather, here we have been trying to rest, for some little time, but we run about too much to accomplish a great deal in that line.
I would like to remain here.