ught her tears.

She went over, kneeled down beside him, and laid her face to his.

"I've got you back!" she whispered. "You've come back to me!"

He lay still, stroking her hair, kissing it, looking out over her head
at the flicker of leaves beyond his window, at the dim green of
air-veiled pastures, and the far-away blur of brownish haze that hung
over the mining town, chief source of the Wychcote riches. A bird
streaked like a black arrow against the faint blue sky. The weather had
cleared within the last few days. There was sunshine, pale but
plenteous--filtering through a veil of moony clouds. A sort of
eclipse-light, it seemed to Sophy; but she welcomed it for Bobby's
sake--the child had been fretting at the prolonged rain. He had lost his
sturdy, lady-apple cheeks. Now he could be out all day pottering at the
out-of-door things that children love.

She knelt there with her cheek against her husband's, just resting, soul
and body. She was too tired with the long strain to vibrate to a keener
joy. Her thankfulness was deep rather than exultant. And Chesney, gazing
out at the summer landscape, thought:

"After all--what if I go on with it? I'm lower than brutes if I deceive
her."

Weariness and a distaste of life crept over him at the mere thought of
keeping up the dreadful, nerve-wearing effort.

"I must. There's no way out of it--with decency," said part of him.
"Fate's against me," said another part. "Why was the little Bush-Ranger
whipped away like that, if there are gods that care? It's too much to
ask a man to keep up alone. I'm sickening for the stuff this moment.
Between the lips of this woman--beautiful as she is--and one grain of
morphia--would I hesitate?" "No," answered the first self, grimly
honest. "You wouldn't. Try to tell her you have the stuff at hand. Give
it up to her. You won't. You can't."

"I _will_!" he thought, setting his teeth.

She felt the swell of his cheek-muscles as he did so, and looked up.

"Sophy...." he said; then stopped short.

"What is it, dear?" she asked. "Can I do something for you?"

He continued looking at her an instant, then closed his eyes.

"No," he said.

She thought his expression had been strange. It hurt her. It was as if
he _had_ wanted something, but did not dare ask her for it. She flushed
suddenly--it was for him she flushed. She thought that he had been about
to coax her for the morphia before the time for giving it. Was he going
to "try it on