"Very well, then, let us change the subject of discourse."
"Agreed. How soon do we leave Annapolis to pursue our homeward way?"
"A little after midnight, if that plan suits my wife's wishes."
"Entirely. But you are not going to remain on deck till then?"
"Probably. I feel no inclination for sleep at present, and the air outside here is, as you remarked a moment since, delightful."
"Especially when enjoyed in such good company, I presume?"
"Yes, that makes a vast difference, of course, yet I can hardly ask you to stay very long with me; cannot have the cruelty to rob my heart's best treasure—my young and lovely wife—of her beauty sleep."
"What a gallant speech!" she laughed; "it surely deserves the reward of at least another half hour of her delectable society. Ah, my best and dearest of husbands," she added in a more serious tone, "there is nothing else in the world I so keenly enjoy as these rare times when I can have you all to myself."
"Yet I cannot believe they are ever more enjoyable to you than to me, my love," he returned; "sweet as your society was to me in the days of our courtship, it is, I think, even sweeter now. And I hope mine is not less enjoyable to you."
"Indeed, no," she said earnestly; "you seem to grow dearer and more lovable every day that we live together; a blessing far, far beyond my deserts. Oh, I can never cease to marvel that I have won so great a prize in the matrimonial lottery."