eir two selves there. Allan, on his couch before the
fire, looked bright and contented. The adjustable couch-head had been
braced to such a position that he was almost sitting up. The bull-dog,
who had lately come back from a long walk with the gratified outdoor
man, snored regularly on the rug near his master, wakening enough to bat
his tail on the floor if he was referred to. The little tea-table was
between Allan and Phyllis, crowned with a bunch of apple-blossoms, whose
spring-like scent dominated the warm room. Phyllis, in her green gown,
her cheeks pink with excitement, was waiting on her lord and master a
little silently.

Allan watched her amusedly for awhile--she was as intent as a good child
over her tea-ball and her lemon and her little cakes.

"Say something, Phyllis," he suggested with the touch of mischief she
was not yet used to, coming from him.

"This is a serious matter," she replied gravely. "Do you know I haven't
made tea--afternoon tea, that is--for so long it's a wonder I know which
is the cup and which is the saucer?"

"Why not?" he asked idly, yet interestedly too.

"I was otherwise occupied. I was a Daughter of Toil," explained Phyllis
serenely, setting down her own cup to relax in her chair, hands behind
her head; looking, in her green gown, the picture of graceful, strong,
young indolence. "I was a librarian--didn't you know?"

"No. I wish you'd tell me, if you don't mind," said Allan. "About you, I
mean, Phyllis. Do you know, I feel awfully married to you this
afternoon--you've bullied me so much it's no wonder--and I really ought
to know about my wife's dark past."

Phyllis's heart beat a little faster. She, too, had felt "awfully
married" here alone in the fire-lit living-room, dealing so intimately
and gayly with Allan.

"There isn't much to tell," she said soberly.

"Come over here closer," commanded Allan the spoilt. "We've both had all
the tea we want. Come close by the couch. I want to see you when you
talk."

Phyllis did as he ordered.

"I was a New England country minister's daughter," she began. "New
England country ministers always know lots about Greek and Latin and how
to make one dollar do the work of one-seventy-five, but they never have
any dollars left when the doing's over. Father and I lived alone
together always, and he taught me things, and I petted him--fathers need
it, specially when they have country congregations--and we didn't bother
much about other fo