's distance, so that only the mind acts, and the senses
are in repose, reserve may keep up its barrier. Words lose their
electricity in passing through a cool tract of air, and Reason shows all
things in her own clear white light. But establish a magnetic circle by
contact, let hand rest in quivering hand, while eye looks into melting
eye, and Reason may as well resign her sway. When the nerves tingle,
the heart bounds, and the breath quickens, estates, honors, family,
prudence, are of little worth. The Grundys, male and female, may go
hang; the joy of the present so transcends all memory, so eclipses hope
even, that all else is forgotten.

The boat careened somewhat, and Marcia changed her seat to the opposite
side, quite near to Greenleaf. His right hand held the tiller,--his
left, quite unconsciously, it would seem, fell into her open palm. The
subtile influence ran through every fibre. What he said he did not know,
only that he verged towards the momentous subject, and committed himself
so far that he must either come plainly to the point or apologize and
withdraw as best he might. _Could_ he withdraw, while, as he held her
soft hand, that lambent fire played along his nerves? He did not give up
the hand.

Poor little Alice! Her picture in his breast-pocket no longer weighed
upon his heart.

The breeze freshened, the boat rose and fell with easy motion over the
whitening waves. The sun all at once was obscured. They looked behind
them; a heavy black cloud was rising rapidly in the west. Greenleaf put
the boat about, and, as it met the shock of the sea, they were covered
with spray. To go back in the wind's eye was clearly impossible; they
must beat up, and, hauling as close to the wind as possible, they stood
towards Swampscot. For a mile or two they held this course, and then
tacked. But making very little headway in that direction, the bow was
turned northward again. In coming about they shipped so much water, that
Marcia, though by no means a coward, screamed out, "We are lost!"
She flung herself into the bottom of the boat and laid her head in
Greenleaf's lap like a frightened child. He soothed her and denied that
there was danger; he did not venture to tack again, however, for fear of
being swamped, but determined to run northwardly along the coast in the
hope of getting ashore on some sandy beach before the fury of the storm
should come. The boat now careened so far that her gunwale was under
water; he saw