at that; the power
of the truth sank for a moment with calming effect upon her
rebellious feeling; but with this came also as truly the
thought, "You have a marvellous beautiful way of saying things
quietly!" -- However for the time her objections were silenced;
and she sat still, looking out upon the water, and thinking
that with the first quiet opportunity she would begin the
first chapter of Matthew.

For a little while they both were motionless and silent; and
then rising, Winthrop began his walk up and down the deck
again. Elizabeth was left to her meditations; which sometimes
roved hither and thither, and sometimes concentred themselves
upon the beat of his feet, which indeed formed a sort of
background of cadence to them all. It was such a soothing
reminder of one strong and sure stay that she might for the
present lean upon; and the knowledge that she might soon lose
it, made the reminder only the more precious. She was weeping
most bitter tears during some of that time; but those
footsteps behind her were like quiet music through all. She
listened to them sometimes, and felt them always, with a
secret gratification of knowing they would not quit the deck
till she did. Then she had some qualms about his getting
tired; and then she said to herself that she could not put a
stop to what was so much to her and which she was not to have
again. So she sat and listened to them, weary and half
bewildered with the changes and pain of the last few days and
hours; hardly recognizing the reality of her own situation, or
that the sloop, Winthrop's walk behind her, the moonlight, her
lonely seat on the deck, and her truly lonely place in the
world, were not all parts of a curious phantasm. Or if
realizing them, with senses so tried and blunted with recent
wear and tear, that they refused to act and left her to
realize it quietly and almost it seemed stupidly. She called
it so to herself, but she could not help it; and she was in a
manner thankful for that. She would wake up again. She would
have liked to sit there all night under that moonlight and
with the regular fall of Winthrop's step to and fro on the
vessel.

"How long can you stand this?" said he, pausing beside her.

"What?" said Elizabeth looking up.

"How long can you do without resting?"

"I am resting. -- I couldn't rest so well anywhere else."

"Couldn't you?"

"No! --" she said earnestly.

He turned away and went on walking. Elizabeth blessed him