Blessed Sunday Bells, ringing so tranquilly in their entranced and happy ears! Blessed Sunday peace and quiet, harmonising with the calmness in their souls, and making holy air around them! Blessed twilight stealing on, and shading her so soothingly and gravely, as she falls asleep, like a hushed child, upon the bosom she has clung to!
Oh load of love and trustfulness that lies to lightly there! Ay, look down on the closed eyes, Walter, with a proudly tender gaze; for in all the wide wide world they seek but thee now—only thee!
The Captain remained in the little parlour until it was quite dark. He took the chair on which Walter had been sitting, and looked up at the skylight, until the day, by little and little, faded away, and the stars peeped down. He lighted a candle, lighted a pipe, smoked it out, and wondered what on earth was going on upstairs, and why they didn’t call him to tea.
Florence came to his side while he was in the height of his wonderment.
“Ay! lady lass!” cried the Captain. “Why, you and Wal”r have had a long spell o’ talk, my beauty.”
Florence put her little hand round one of the great buttons of his coat, and said, looking down into his face:
“Dear Captain, I want to tell you something, if you please.
The Captain raised his head pretty smartly, to hear what it was. Catching by this means a more distinct view of Florence, he pushed back his chair, and himself with it, as far as they could go.
“What! Heart’s Delight!” cried the Captain, suddenly elated, “Is it that?”
“Yes!” said Florence, eagerly.