"That's very curious--I beg your pardon; I mean you must find it a
great novelty."

"Yes, it's very strange," said the girl, seriously. "It looks like
the Flood. It seems as if all the rest of the world was drowned."

Dunham glanced round the vast horizon. "It _is_ like the Flood.
And it has that quality, which I've often noticed in sublime things,
of seeming to be for this occasion only."

"Yes?" said Lydia.

"Why, don't you know? It seems as if it must be like a fine sunset,
and would pass in a few minutes. Perhaps we feel that we can't endure
sublimity long, and want it to pass."

"I could look at it forever," replied Lydia.

Dunham turned to see if this were young-ladyish rapture, but perceived
that she was affecting nothing. He liked seriousness, for he was,
with a great deal of affectation for social purposes, a very sincere
person. His heart warmed more and more to the lonely girl; to be
talking to her seemed, after all, to be doing very little for her,
and he longed to be of service. "Have you explored our little wooden
world, yet?" he asked, after a pause.

Lydia paused too. "The ship?" she asked presently. "No; I've only been
in the cabin, and here; and this morning," she added, conscientiously,
"Thomas showed me the cook's galley,--the kitchen."