nderstanding of His Love, must rule the world.

"Then shall the earth bring forth her increase: and God, even our own
God, shall give us His blessing."

Akhnaton had sung his Hymn of Praise in his temples and in the
pleasure-courts of his city in almost the very same words.

Confident that righteousness would triumph, that God's world-kingdom
had come, he suffered the wrath of his military commanders, who were
watching the breaking-up of his kingdom in far-off Syria.

* * * * * *

Two hours later the bride and the bridegroom, the two happiest people
in London, drove away from the Iretons' rooms in Clarges Street.
Hadassah and Michael Ireton watched them until the taxi was out of
sight. As they turned into the hall, with something very like tears in
their eyes--for even in the happiest marriages there is the quality of
tears--Michael put his arms round his wife and drew her to him. As she
looked up into his rugged face, his eyes more than his words said:

"We know how they feel, dearest! God bless them! Such happiness makes
one weep in these days."

Hadassah pressed her dark head against his coat-sleeve. He held her
closely; each day she was more precious in his sight.

"They are worthy of each other." His voice broke. "Really, when one
sees such happiness, one says to oneself, even if they have only a
fortnight together, it is a great deal, a wonderful thing."

Hadassah looked at her husband searchingly. "Somehow I've no fear for
Michael--have you?"

Michael Ireton thought before he answered. "No, I don't think I have."

"There is a certain something about some people that makes one either
afraid or not afraid for them--the men going to the Front, I mean. For
Michael Amory I haven't any fear. I can't explain why--it's not that
he will save himself by caution." She laughed.

"I know," her husband said. "Michael seems extraordinarily lucky. He
told me a few things last night, of the escapes which he daren't tell
Margaret, ghastly adventures. I'm afraid he's awfully rash. Like all
Irishmen, when his blood's up, he hasn't any conception of the danger
he's facing. He has the super-bravery of the Celt, and all his
recklessness."

"I just hope that as a married man he will keep that supernatural
nerve. A wife often destroys it."

"I know," Michael Ireton said. "One sees it so often--No wife, no
danger--a wife at home, more caution, less nerve."

Hadassah w