"Let me get as accustomed as I can now, so that I may feel settled.

That is the way to prevent my being tired--the way to rest me, because it will help to get all my thinkings about you into place .-- Yes, please stay .-- That is," she added with a pretty touch of ceremony--"if you have time, and don't yourself wish to go." "I wish it! What, in heaven's name, could well be further from any wish of mine ?" Faircloth broke out almost roughly, without raising his eyes.
"Do you suppose when a man's gone thirsty many days, he is in haste to forego the first draught of pure water offered to him--and that after just putting his lips to the dear comfort of it ?" "Ah! you care too much," Damaris cried, smitten by swift shrinking and dread.
Faircloth lifted his head and looked at her, his face keen, brilliant with a far from ignoble emotion.
"It is not, and never will be possible--so I fancy"-- he said, "to care too much about you." And he fell into contemplation of the glowing logs again.
But Damaris, seeing his transfigured countenance, hearing his rejoinder, penetrated, moreover, by the conviction of his entire sincerity, felt the weight of a certain golden crown more than ever heavy upon her devoted young head.

She stepped aside, groping with outstretched hands behind her until she found and held on to the arm of the big sofa stationed at right angles to the hearth.

And she waited, morally taking breath, to slip presently on to the wide low seat of it and lean thankfully against its solidly cushioned back for support.
"Neither for you, or for my ship"-- Faircloth went on, speaking, as it seemed, more to himself than to his now pale companion.

"I dare couple you and her together, though she is no longer in the dew of her youth.
Oh! I can't defend her looks, poor dear.