"He has been no worse than before; rather better, perhaps as Silas was not here to be urged upon me and you were gone—none but I knew where—and, as he no doubt hoped, never to come back. But I begin to think, sir, that you didn't love me at all as much as you professed, or you would have felt something of the loneliness that I suffered and understand better why I was unhappy."
"Darling, I—"
"What a foolish girl I have been! Crying my eyes out for one who was no doubt very merry without me and well contented."
"Ah! You only say that to make me tell you again how much I love you, little Mollie. I've felt lonely enough, sometimes, it is true; but never enough to cry about it, I must confess; and I rather think the fellow is soft-headed as well as soft-hearted who pipes his eye and gets down in the mouth when he can say to himself that every day that passes, and every new exertion he makes, brings him nearer to the girl he loves. Why, instead of getting blue with thoughts of my far-away little Mollie, they gave me courage, and strength, and happiness. They warmed me as I lay along the yard furling sail in the icy gale; they made short the long hours of the night when I took my trick at the wheel; they nerved my arm when I struck for the life of a whale."
"I find myself beginning to believe again that you really did love me."
"Love you? Why, I couldn't live without loving you."
"And you never thought that while you were so long away I might learn to love somebody else?"
"No. Never even dreamed of such a thing," he replied simply.
"Ah! Now I know you loved me, for only perfect love, knowing but its own fullness and truth, is so trustful. And you were right, dear Dorn. I could love no one but you."
"Well, my pet," continued Dorn, after the natural ceremonial of due recognition of such a sweet avowal—the form and manner of which youthful readers may readily figure to themselves, and older ones perhaps find suggested by memory—"we'll not have much longer to wait now. Our cruise was a good one, and when the shares are figured up and paid off, I'll have a handsome little sum coming to me. Then an owner in New Haven, Mr. Merriwether, wants me to take immediate command of a schooner trading between that port and the West Indies, and has offered me such a pretty share of the profits that I have agreed to make a few trips for him. Then I shall have enough to build a cage for my bird, and to buy, not simply a share in a schooner, but a whole schooner—all by myself, I hope, and we will be made folks for life."