"Oh, nothing," he replied. He wanted to tell her the truth, all the truth, but it was not yet time he feared. Until she had given up to him, he decided to withhold anything serious.

"There is something, Jean, of that I am sure," she insisted, shifting where she could see his face more clearly.

"If there is anything, wife, I would discuss it later. Now,—I can think of but one thing, and that is you," whereupon he caressed her again fondly. She sighed then and her emotion was becoming more perceptible.

"You are going back home with me tomorrow, dear?" he dared to say presently.

For answer she shifted uneasily, and then her eyes espied the clock on the wall. It was five-thirty.

"I think I should call up home," she said thoughtfully. He caught his breath, and trembled perceptibly. She regarded him inquiringly.

And here again we must remark about Jean Baptiste. In the year of misery, of agony and suffering in general he had endured, he had settled upon one theory. And that was that if he and his wife were to ever live together again and be happy, the family were to be kept out of it. Perhaps if this could have been forgotten by him in this moment, we would not have had this story to tell; but when she mentioned her folks, all that he had wished to avoid—all that he felt he must avoid, came before him. As he saw it now, if she called her father, they would never live together again. He was nervous when he anticipated the fact. He started, and took on unconsciously a fearsome expression.

"Please don't, Orlean," he said, beseechingly.

"Don't what?" she asked, apprehensive of something she did not like.

"Call your father," he said. He wanted to tell her that if she called her father, it would mean the end of everything for them, but he withheld this.

"Now, I wish him to know where I am," she said, protestingly, and arose from his knee. She stood away from where he sat hesitatingly. In that moment, she was not aware that she stood between duty and subservience. As she saw it, she forgot from her training that there was a duty, she only remembered that she was obedient. Obedient to the father who had reared her so to be.

It was the psychological moment in their union. Near her the husband that she had taken, regarded her uneasily. He had come to her to do the duty that was his to do. They were estranged because of one thing, and one thing only, and that was her father, the man her husband would never yield to. And as she hesitated between obedience to one and duty toward the other, her life, her love and future was in the balance.

Which?