"I never want to live so again. I want you always, Orlean."

"When did you leave home?" she asked now.

"A couple of days ago."

"And how long have you been here?"

"I came yesterday afternoon."

"And when to Mrs. Merley's?"

"This morning."

She was thoughtful then. Indeed they were getting along better than he had hoped. There remained but one thing more. If he could persuade her to stay the night at Mrs. Merley's and not insist on going home. If he could keep her out of her father's sight until morning, he would have no more worry. That, indeed, was his one point of uneasiness. Keeping her out of her father's sight. He recalled how he had refrained from buying a revolver when he left home. It would not have been safe after all that had passed between himself and her father for him to have anything of the kind about, and he was glad now that he had been sensible.

He drew his wife's head down, turned her face to his, and kissed her lips. He caught the sigh that passed her lips. He saw her eyebrows begin to contract. What was passing in her mind? Duty? Then, to whom?

He kissed her again, and caressed her fondly. This meant much to him. He told her so then, too.

"It has been very hard on me, wife, for you to have stayed away a whole year. Awfully hard. It was never my plans or intention for such to be." He was full up now. He wanted to talk a long time with her. If they could just retire and talk far into the night as they had done in the eleven months that had been theirs.

His confidence was growing. All that was expedient now, he felt sure, was to keep the Reverend out of it until morning. By that time no further effort on his part would be necessary.

"Do you love me, Orlean?" he said now, drawing her face close to his again.

She made no reply audibly, but she seemed to be struggling with something within herself. In truth she did not want to say that she did, and she would not tell him she did not. She let her arm unconsciously encircle his neck. Her hand found his head and stroked his hair, while she was mentally meditative.

In the meantime, his head rested against her breast, and he could hear the beating of her heart.

"Oh, my wife," he cried, intended for himself but she heard it. It aroused her, her emotion began to assert itself. How long would it take for her to be his mate again at this rate?

"How is everything back home?" she asked, as if seeking a change. He hesitated. She looked down into his face to see why he did not answer directly. He caught her eyes, and she could see that he was not wishing to tell her something.

"What is the matter, Jean?" she asked now, slightly excited and anxious.