your side. Faircloth's Inn on Marychurch Haven
and your Indian palace, as basis to two children's memories and outlook,
are too widely divergent, when one comes to think of it. When listening
to you and Colonel Carteret talking at luncheon I caught very plain sight
of that. Not that he talked of set purpose to read me a wholesome lesson
in humility--never in life. He's not that sort. But the lesson went home
all the more directly for that very reason.--Patience one little minute,"
he quickly admonished her as she essayed to speak--"patience. You ask,
with those dear wonderful eyes of yours, what I'm driving at.--This,
beloved one--you see the waiting carriage over there. Hadn't we best get
into it, turn the horses' heads citywards again, and drink our tea, you
and I, on the way up to the station somewhere very much else than on
board this rough-and-tumble rather foul-breathed cargo boat?--I'm so
beastly afraid you may be disgusted and shocked by the interval between
what you're accustomed to and what I am. To let you down"--

Faircloth's handsome face worked. Whereat Damaris' diffidence took to
itself wings and flew away. Her heart grew light.

"Let me down?" she said. "You can't let me down. Oh! really, really
you're a little slow of comprehension. We are in this--in everything that
has happened since I first knew who you are, and everything which is
going to happen from now onwards--in it together. What joins us goes
miles, miles deeper and wider than any petty surface things. Must I tell
you how much I care? Can't you feel it for yourself?"

And she stepped before him on to the upward sloping gangway plank.

CHAPTER XI

WHEREIN DAMARIS MEETS HERSELF UNDER A NOVEL ASPECT

Damaris threw back the bedclothes, her eyes still dim with slumber, and
gathered herself into a sitting position, clasping her knees with both
hands. She had a vague impression that something very pleasant awaited
her attention; but, in the soft confusion of first awakening, could not
remember exactly what it was.

To induce clearer consciousness she instinctively parted the mosquito
curtains, slipped her feet down over the side of the bed; and, a little
crouched together and fumbly--baby-fashion--being still under the
comfortable empire of sleep, crossed the room and set back the inward
opening casements of the south window. Thereupon the outdoor freshness,
fluttering her hair and the lace and nain-sook of her nightdress,
brought her