l be free
to us forever. Gladly will I remain and take my punishment if in the end
it will make us happier, Nada."

"I have only one dream," she repeated, caressing his cheek with her
hand, "and that is you, Roger. Wherever you take me I shall be the
happiest woman in the world."

"WOMAN," he laughed, scarcely breathing the word aloud.

"Yes, I am a woman--now"

"And yet forever and ever the little girl of Cragg's Ridge," he cried
with sudden passion, crushing her close to him. "I'd lose my life
sooner than I would lose her, Nada--the little girl with flying hair and
strawberry stain on her nose, and who believed so faithfully in the Man
in the Moon. Always I shall worship her as the little goddess who came
down to me from somewhere in heaven!"

Yet all through that day, as they waited for Father John's return, he
saw more and more of the wonder of woman that had come to crown the
glory of Nada's wifehood, and his heart trembled with joy at the miracle
of it. There was something vastly sweet in the change of her. She was
no longer the utterly dependent little thing, possibly caring for him
because he was big and strong and able to protect her; she was a woman,
and loved him as a woman, and not because of fear or helplessness. And
then came the thrilling mystery of another thing. He found himself,
in turn, beginning to depend upon her, and in their planning her calm
decision and quiet reasoning strengthened him with new confidence and
made his heart sing with gladness. With his eyes on the smooth and
velvety coils of hair which she had twisted woman-like on her head, he
said,

"With your hair like that you are my Margaret of Anjou, and the other
way--with it down you are my little Nada of Cragg's Ridge. And I--I
don't quite understand why God should be so good to me."

And this day Peter was trying in his dumb way to analyze the change. The
touch of Nada's hand thrilled him, as it did a long time ago, and still
he sensed the difference. Her voice was even softer when she put her
cheek down to his whiskered face and talked to him, but in it he missed
that which he could not quite bring back clearly through the lapse of
time--the childish comradeship of her. Yet he began to worship her anew,
even more fiercely than he had loved the Nada of old. He was content now
to lie with his nose touching her foot or dress; but when in the sunset
of early evening she went into her room, and came out a little later
with her cur