ome milk and brandy."

"Oh, but I never take brandy," she said, collecting herself with a
little smile and rising. "It's very kind of you, Jeff. But I can't drink
it, really. It would go straight to my head."

"You must drink it," said Jeff.

He presented it to her with the words, but Doris backed away
half-laughing.

"No, really, Jeff! I'll go and have a hot bath. That will do quite as
well."

"You must drink this first," said Jeff.

There was a dogged note in his voice, and at sound of it Doris's brows
went up, and her smile passed.

"I mean it," said Jeff, setting cup and saucer on the table before her.
"I can't run the risk of having you laid up. Drink it now, before it
gets cold!"

A little gleam of mutiny shone in Doris's eyes. "My dear Jeff," she said
very decidedly. "I have told you already that I do not drink brandy. I
am going to have a hot bath and change, and after that I will have some
tea. But I draw the line at hot grog. So, please, take it away! Give it
to Granny Grimshaw! It would do her more good."

She smiled again suddenly and winningly with the words. After all it was
absurd to be vexed over such a trifle.

But, to her amazement, Jeff's face hardened. He stepped to her, and, as
if she had been a child, took her by the shoulders, and put her down
into a chair by the table.

"Doris," he said, and his voice sounded deep and stern above her head,
"I may not get much out of my bargain, but I think I may claim obedience
at least. There is not enough brandy there to hurt you, and I wish you
to take it."

She stiffened at his action, as if she would actively resist; but she
only became rigid under his hands.

There followed a tense and painful silence. Then without a word Doris
took the cup and raised it unsteadily to her lips. In the same moment
Jeff took his hands from her shoulders, straightened himself, and in
silence left the room.

CHAPTER X

CHRISTMAS EVE

It was only a small episode, but it made an impression upon Doris that
she was slow to forget. It was not that she resented the assertion of
authority. She had the fairness to admit his right, but in a very subtle
fashion it hurt her. It made her feel more than ever the hollowness of
the bargain, to which he had made such grim allusion. It added,
moreover, to her uneasiness, making her suspect that he was fully as
dissatisfied as she. Yet, in face of the stony front he presented she
could not continue to proffer her f