hed before a fire, cross-legged, her face cupped on her
hands. In her pink robe and cap she looked more like a child than ever.
She half turned her head, as if feeling his presence, so he saw how pale
she was, how black the circles round her eyes.

"My little love!" he cried to her. "My little love!"

She sprang to her feet, facing him; her hands went swiftly to her heart,
as if a spasm shook her. As Jarvis came toward her, a great light in his
face, she put her hands out to fend him off.

"I want you to know that I realize just how silly and cheap and
theatrical I've been. I didn't mean to hurt you," she began in a
monotone, as if it tired her too much to speak. He tried to stop her,
but she shook her head.

"I have to say it all now. I cared so much when you came home that time,
and after the first night I thought you didn't care for me."

"My best beloved, let me----"

"No, no--please. I was piqued and angry and I thought I could punish you
by pretending to be the other woman you thought you were writing to. I
wanted to make you care for her, and then----"

"It was you I cared for--you, you, you!"

"I thought that, when you knew I was both of us, you'd be so glad----" She
broke off into a sob.

"I am, dearest, I am."

"I never meant to hurt you. This week has nearly killed me."

He took her into his arms, and sat in the big chair, holding her close,
while she clung to him and sobbed out her heart. He kissed her hair, her
wet eyes, and her lips, saying over and over, "Oh, littlest, I love you
so, I love you so!" When the sobs ceased, he lifted her face to his.

"I want to see the shine in your eyes, dearest, and then I want you to
listen to me."

She drew his head down to her and kissed him.

"The shine will come back now, beloved. Oh, Big"--she said with a
sigh--"my old Jarvis."

"No, your new Jarvis, little wife. The old, crazy Jarvis will be more to
your liking. I may not understand you very well yet, but I know my need
of you my pride in you----"

"And my need of you?"

"And your need of me. We're in step, now, honey girl--and we'll march
along together without any more misunderstandings, won't we?"

"Oh, we will, if you'll take short steps, so I can keep up."

"I'm the one to do the running now, Miss Mite. A famous novelist and a
successful playwright!" he laughed, pinching her cheek.

"None of it counts. The only title that means anything to me is Mrs.
Jarvis Jocelyn."

His comment on