r said
what I have just said to you. We sailors think and speak and act
quickly, it is a part of our profession; but if I should wait for years
I should think no differently and act in no other way. I love you!
Oh, Katharine, I love you as my soul."

There was a note of passion in his voice which thrilled her heart with
ecstasy; the others had not made love this way.

"You seem to me like that star I have often watched in the long hours
of the night, which has shown me the way on many a trackless sea. I
know I am as far beneath you as I am beneath that star. But though the
distance is great, my love can bridge it, if you will let me try.
Katharine--won't you answer me, Katharine? Is there nothing you can
say to me? 'Dost thou love me, Kate?'" he quoted softly, taking her
other hand. How very fair, but how very far away she looked! The
color came and went in her cheek. He could see her breast rise and
fall under the mad beating of a heart which had escaped her control,
though hitherto she had found no difficulty in keeping it well in hand.
There was a novelty, a difference, in the situation this time, a new
and unexpected element in the event. She hesitated. Why was it no
merry quip came to the lips usually so ready with repartee? Alas, she
must answer.

"I--I--oh, Mr. Seymour," she said softly and slowly, with a downcast
face she fain would hide, he fain would see. "I--yes," she murmured
with great reluctance; "that is--I think so. You see, when you
defended father, in the fight with the brig, you know, and got that
bullet in your shoulder you earned a title to my gratitude, my--"

"I don't want a title to your gratitude," he interrupted. "I want your
love, I want you to love me for myself alone."

"And do you think you are worthy that I should?" she replied with a
shadow of her former archness.

He gravely bent his head and kissed her hand. "No, Katharine, I do
not. I can lay no claim to your hand, if it is to be a reward of
merit, but I love you so--that is the substance of my hope."

"Oh, Mr. Seymour, Mr. Seymour, you overvalue me. If you do that with
all your possessions, you will be-- Oh, what have I said?" she cried
in sudden alarm, as he took her in his arms.

"My possessions! Katharine, may I then count you so? Oh, Kate, my
lovely Kate--" It was over, and over as she would have it; why
struggle any longer? The landing was a lonely little spot under the
summer-house, at the end of