“I can't hardly wait to get to sea,” went on Nat. “Think of it! No more lonesome meals in the cabin, thinkin' about you and about home. No, sir! you and home'll be right aboard with me. Think of the fun we'll have in the foreign ports. London, and you and me goin' sightseein' through it! And Havre and Gibraltar and Marseilles and Genoa and--and--by and by, Calcutta and Hong Kong and Singapore. I've seen 'em all, of course, but you haven't. I tell you, Keziah, that time when I first saw a real hope of gettin' you, that time after I'd learned from John that that big trouble of yours was out of the way forever, on my way up to Boston in the cars I made myself a promise--I swore that if you did say yes to me I'd do my best to make the rest of your life as smooth and pleasant as the past so far had been rough. I ain't rich enough to give you what you deserve, nowhere near; but I'll work hard and do my best, my girl--you see.” Keziah was looking out over the bay, her eyes brighter than the sunset. Now she turned to look up into his face. “Rich!” she repeated, with a little catch in her voice. “Rich! there never was a woman in this world so rich as I am this minute. Or so happy, either.” End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Keziah Coffin, by Joseph C. Lincoln