sea and sky now leaden. The first is
turned into liquid gold by the phosphorescence, and the full moon
silvers everything else. Neither is Peter pacing the deck with lines of
pain and endurance on his face. He is up in the bow, where the vessel's
forefoot throws up the white foam in silver drops in the moonlight. And
he does not look miserable. Anything but that. He is sitting on an
anchor stock, with his back comfortably braced against the rail. Another
person is not far distant. What that person sits upon and leans against
is immaterial to the narrative.

"Why don't you smoke?" asked that person.

"I'm too happy," said Peter, in a voice evidencing the truth of his
words.

"Will you if I bite off the end?" asked Eve, Jr., placing temptation
most temptingly.

"I like the idea exceedingly," said Peter. "But my right arm is so very
pleasantly placed that it objects to moving."

"Don't move it. I know where they are. I even know about the matches."
And Peter sat calmly while his pockets were picked. He even seemed to
enjoy the sensation of that small hand rummaging in his waistcoat
pockets. "You see, dear, that I am learning your ways," Leonore
continued, in a tone of voice which suggested that that was the chief
end of woman. Perhaps it is. The Westminster catechism only tells us the
chief end of man.

"There. Now are you really happy?"

"I don't know anybody more so."

"Then, dear, I want to talk with you."

"The wish is reciprocal. But what have we been doing for six days?"

"We've been telling each other everything, just as we ought. But now I
want to ask two favors, dear."

"I don't think that's necessary. Just tell me what they are."

"Yes. These favors are. Though I know you'll say 'yes.'"

"Well?"

"First. I want you always to keep your rooms just as they are?"

"Dear-heart, after our six weeks' trip, we must be in Albany for three
years, and when we come back to New York, we'll have a house of course."

"Yes. But I want you to keep the rooms just as they are, because I love
them. I don't think I shall ever feel the same for any other place. It
will be very convenient to have them whenever, we want to run down from
Albany. And of course you must keep up with the ward."

"But you don't suppose, after we are back in New-York, that I'll stay
down there, with you uptown?"

"Oh, no! Of course not. Peter! How absurd you are! But I shall go down
very often. Sometimes we'll give little dinners to rea