louds of fate; a show of sunshine where he
had expected never to see the light again. Why was it so pleasant to have
that little hand resting upon his arm? Was it really pleasant or was it
only a part of the restfulness of getting home again away from strange
faces and uncomfortable beds, and poor tables?

They let themselves into the house as if they were walking into a new
world together and both were glad to be there again. When she got up to
her room Marcia went and stood before the glass and looked at herself by
the flickering flame of the candle. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks
burned red in the centre like two soft deep roses. She felt she hardly
knew herself. She tried to be critical. Was this person she was examining
a pretty person? Would she be called so in comparison with Kate and Hannah
Heath? Would a man,--would David,--if his heart were not filled,--think so?
She decided not. She felt she was too immature. There was too much shyness
in her glance, too much babyishness about her mouth. No, David could never
have thought her beautiful, even if he had seen her before he knew Kate.
But perhaps, if Kate had been married first and away and then he had come
to their home, perhaps if he knew no one else well enough to love,--could
he have cared for her?

Oh, it was a dreadful, beautiful thought. It thrilled through and through
her till she hid her face from her own gaze. She suddenly kissed the hand
that had rested on his sleeve, and then reproached herself for it. She
loved him, but was it right to do so?

As for David, he was sitting on the side of his bed with his chin in his
hands examining himself.

He had supposed that with the reading of those letters which had come to
him but two short days before all possibility of love and happiness had
died, but lo! he found himself thrilling with pleasure over the look in a
girl's soft eyes, and the touch of her hand. And that girl was his wife.
It was enough to keep him awake to try to understand himself.

CHAPTER XXVI

Hannah Heath's wedding day dawned bright enough for a less calculating
bride.

David did not get home until half past three. He had been obliged to drive
out to the starting place of the new railroad, near Albany, where it was
important that he get a few points correctly. On the morrow was to be the
initial trip, by the Mohawk and Hudson Railroad, of the first train drawn
by a steam engine in the sta