d no thought of repenting at leisure, or otherwise. They were,
in fact, quite happy and contented. Marriage had shattered no
illusions. If, indeed, they cherished any illusory conceptions of each
other, the intimacy of mating had merely served to confirm those
illusions, to shape them into realities. They were young enough to be
ardent lovers, old enough to know that love was not the culmination,
but only an ecstatic phase in the working out of an inexorable natural
law.

If Doris was happy, full of high spirits, joyfully abandoned to the
fulfilment of her destiny as a woman, Hollister too was happier than
he had considered it possible for him ever to be again. But, in
addition, he was supremely grateful. Life for him as an individual had
seemed to be pretty much a blank wall, a drab, colorless routine of
existence; something he could not voluntarily give up, but which gave
nothing, promised nothing, save monotony and isolation and, in the
end, complete despair. So that his love for this girl, who had given
herself to him with the strangely combined passion of a mature woman
and the trusting confidence of a child, was touched with gratitude.
She had put out her hand and lifted him from the pit. She would always
be near him, a prop and a stay. Sometimes it seemed to Hollister a
miracle. He would look at his face in the mirror and thank God that
she was blind. Doris said that made no difference, but he knew better.
It made a difference to eyes that could see, however tolerantly.

In Hollister, also, there revived the natural ambition to get on, to
grasp a measure of material security, to make money. There were so
many ways in which money was essential, so many desirable things they
could secure and enjoy together with money. Making a living came
first, but beyond a mere living he began to desire comfort, even
luxuries, for himself and his wife. He had made tentative plans. They
had discussed ways and means; and the most practical suggestion of all
came now from his wife's lips.

Hollister went about town the next few days, diligently seeking
information about prices, wages, costs and methods. He had a practical
knowledge of finance, and a fair acquaintance with timber operations
generally, so that he did not waste his own or other men's time. He
met a rebuff or two, but he learned a great deal which he needed to
know, and he said to Doris finally:

"I'm going to play your hunch and get that timber out myself. It will