In the Land of the Long White Cloud

obviously rich; otherwise, he couldn’t afford this journey and the whole lot. But I know nothing about my future spouse.”
    Helen listened attentively, but it was hard for her to feel sorry for Gwyneira. In fact, Helen was painfully aware that her new friend was markedly better informed about her future than she was. Howard had said nothing about the size of his farm, his animal count, or his social contacts. As for his financial circumstances, she knew only that, though he was debt free, he could not afford larger expenditures like a trip to Europe—even in steerage—without due consideration. Still, he wrote such beautiful letters. Blushing once again, Helen rustled the letters, already worn from repeated reading, out of her pocket and thrust them at Gwyneira, both women having sat down on the edge of the lifeboat in the meantime. Gwyneira read greedily.
    “Yeeeeah, he can write…” she said with restraint, folding the letters back together.
    “Do you think there’s something strange about them?” Helen inquired anxiously. “Do you not like the letters?”
    Gwyneira shrugged. “I don’t have to like them. If you want my honest opinion, I find them a bit bombastic. But…”
    “But?” Helen pressed.
    “Well, what I find strange is…I would never have thought a farmer could write such lovely letters.” Gwyneira turned away. She found the letters more than just strange. Naturally, Howard O’Keefe might be well educated. Her own father was also both a gentleman and a farmer; in provincial England and Wales that wasn’t uncommon. But even with all his schooling, her father would never haveused such turgid formulations as this Howard did. Moreover, among the nobility, especially when it came to marriage negotiations, people usually put all their cards on the table. Future partners had a right to know what to expect, and Gwyneira couldn’t find any indications of Howard’s business situation. She also found it strange that he didn’t ask for a dowry or at least expressly reject one.
    Now, of course, the man had not counted on Helen rushing to his arms on the next ship. Maybe this flattery only served to break the ice. But she nevertheless found it unnerving.
    “He is really very passionate,” Helen said, taking up her fiancé’s defense. “He writes just like I dreamed he would.” She smiled happily, lost in her thoughts.
    Gwyneira smiled back. “Then all’s well,” she declared, resolving, however, to ask her future father-in-law about Howard O’Keefe at the next opportunity. He bred sheep too, after all. It was likely the men knew each other.

    She did not get to ask right away, though, because the meals that usually created the perfect circumstances for such pressing inquiries were often canceled due to rough seas. The first day’s lovely weather proved deceptive. They had hardly reached the Atlantic when the wind whipped around and the
Dublin
fought its way through storms and rain. Many of the passengers became seasick and opted to pass on meals or simply take them in their cabins. True, neither Gerald Warden nor Gwyneira had sensitive stomachs, but when no official dinner was prepared, they usually ate at different times. Gwyneira did so intentionally; after all, her future father-in-law certainly would not have consented to her ordering large quantities of food only to let Helen’s charges have them. Gwyneira would have liked to supply all the other steerage passengers with food. The children in particular needed every bite they could get just to keep themselves halfway warm. Yes, it was the middle of summer and it was not particularly cold outside, even with the rain. But when the seas were rough, water seeped intothe steerage cabins, and everything became so damp as a result that there was hardly a dry place to sit. Helen and the girls shivered in their clammy dresses, but Helen nevertheless insisted on continuing with her charges’ daily lessons. The other children on the ship were not getting any schooling during this time. The ship doctor who was responsible for their lessons was himself sick and self-medicated with plenty of gin from the ship pharmacy.
    Conditions in steerage were far from pleasant even on the best days. In the family and men’s areas, the bathrooms overflowed during storms, and most of the passengers washed seldom, if ever. Given the cold, Helen herself felt little enthusiasm for washing but insisted that her girls use a portion of their daily water ration