agreeable features in the fray.

"If you are going to talk like that I'll never speak to you again,"
she said, banishing the smile. "Don't you trust me?"

"Sure," he said, and he meant it. "That's not the point."

"See here, Harve," she said, abruptly putting her hands on his
shoulders and looking squarely into his eyes, "I want you to believe
me when I say that I am a--a--well, a good woman."

"I believe it," he said, solemnly. Then, as an after-thought, "and I
want to say the same thing for myself."

"I've never doubted you," said she, fervently. "Now, go home and let
things stand as they are. Write to Mr. Davis to-night."

"I will. I say, won't you give me a kiss?"

She hesitated, still calculating.

"Yes, if you promise not to tell anybody," she said, with mock
solemnity. As she expected, he took it seriously.

"Do you suppose I go 'round telling people I've kissed my wife?"

Then she gave him a peck on the cheek and let it go as a kiss.

"When will you be out to see us?"

"Soon, I hope," she said, quickly. "Now go, Harve, I'm going to lie
down and rest. Kiss Phoebe for me."

He got to the door. She was fairly pushing him.

"I feel better," he said, taking a long breath.

"So do I," said she.

He paused for a moment to frown in some perplexity.

"Say, Nell, I left my cane in a street car coming down. Do you think
it would be worth while to advertise for it?"

CHAPTER V

CHRISTMAS

The weeks went slowly by and Christmas came to the little house in
Tarrytown. He had become resigned but not reconciled to Nellie's
continued and rather persistent absence, regarding it as the sinister
proclamation of her intention to carry out the plan for separation in
spite of all that he could do to avert the catastrophe. His devotion
to Phoebe was more intense than ever; it had reached the stage of
being pathetic.

True to his word, he wrote to Mr. Davis, who in time responded, saying
that he could give him a place at the soda fountain in May, but that
the wages would of necessity be quite small, owing to the fact that
the Greeks had invaded Blakeville with the corner fruit stands and
soft-drink fountains. He could promise him eight dollars a week, or
ten dollars if he would undertake to come to the store at six A.M. and
sweep up, a task now performed by the proprietor himself, who found
himself approaching an age and a state of health that craved a feast
of luxury and ease hitherto untasted.

Harv