er life in harmony with His eternal
laws.

How foolish and artificial were the ways of the far-away, drab, prosaic
world of clothes and houses and furnishings! If she could only live
forever in this dream-world!

Even while the thought surged through her heart, she lifted her head and
saw the red rim of the sun suddenly break through the sea, and started
lest the white light of day had revealed her to some passing boatman
hurrying to his nets.

Her keen eye quickly swept the circle of the wide, silent world of
sand-dunes, marsh and waters. No prying eye was near. Only the morning
star still gleaming above saw. And they were twin sisters.

Four days flew on velvet wings before the first cloud threw its shadow
across her life. Jim always slept until nine o'clock, and refused with
dogged good-natured indifference to stir when she had asked him to get
the wood for breakfast. It was nothing, of course, to walk a hundred
yards to the beach and pick up the wood, and she did it. The hurt that
stung was the feeling that he was growing indifferent.

She felt for the first time an impulse to box his lazy jaws as he yawned
and turned over for the dozenth time without rising. He looked for all
the world like a bulldog curled up on his bed of grass.

She shook him at last.

"Jim, dear, you must get up now! Breakfast is almost ready and it won't
be fit to eat if you don't come on."

He opened his heavy eyelids and gazed at her sleepily.

"All righto----! Just as you say--just as you say."

"Hurry! Breakfast will be ready before you can dress."

"Gee! Breakfast all ready! You're one smart little wifie, Kiddo."

The compliment failed to please. She was sure that he had been fully
awake twice before and pretended to be asleep from sheer laziness and
indifference.

The thought hurt.

When they sat down at last to breakfast, she looked into his half-closed
eyes with a sudden start.

"Why, Jim, your eyes are red!"

"Yes?"

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"You're ill--what is it?"

He grinned sheepishly.

"You couldn't guess now, could you?"

"You haven't been drinking!" she gasped.

"No," he drawled lazily, "I wouldn't say drinking--I just took one
big swallow last night--makes you sleep good when you're tired. Good
medicine! I always carry a little with me."

A sickening wave went over her. Not that she felt that he was going
to be a drunkard. But the utter indifference with which he made the
announcemen