"I deem myself a happy man in possessing such a treasure as you and your dear love.

I can hardly reconcile myself to the thought of a separation for even a few weeks." "Separation!" she cried, with a start, and in a tone of mingled pain and incredulity.

"What can you mean?
But I won't be separated from you; I'm your wife, and I claim the right to cling to you always, _always_!" "And I would have you do so, if it could be without a sacrifice of your comfort and enjoyment, but--" "Comfort and enjoyment!" she interrupted; "it is here in your arms or by your side that I find both; nowhere else.

But why do you talk so?
is anything wrong ?" "Nothing, except that it seems impossible for me to leave the plantation for weeks to come, unless I can get a better substitute than I know of at present." "Oh, Ned, I am so sorry!" she cried, tears of disappointment springing to her eyes.
"Don't feel too badly about it, little wife," he said, in a cheery tone; "it is just possible the right man may turn up before the yacht sails; and in that case I can go with the rest of you; otherwise I shall hope to join you before your stay at Nantucket is quite over." "Not my stay; for I won't go one step of the way without you, unless you order me!" she added, sportively, and with a vivid blush; "and I'm not sure that I'll do it even in that case." "Oh, yes you will," he said, laughingly.

"You know you promised to be always good and obedient on condition that I would love you and keep you; and I'm doing both to the very best of my ability." "But you won't be if you send me away from you.