sh that followed the plea, Abbie crept up to her husband and
slipped her hand into his.

"The child loves him, dear," she said, looking up into the man's stern
face. "I read it in her eyes long ago. You want her to be happy,
don't you?"

Her voice trembled. Only the mother instinct, supreme in its
selflessness, gave her the strength to continue: "We must not think of
ourselves. Real love is heaven-sent. It is ours neither to give nor
to deny."

How still the room was. Suddenly it had been transformed into a battle
ground on which a soul waged mortal combat. There was no question in
the minds of those who viewed the struggle that the issue presented had
come as a shock, and that to meet it taxed every ounce of forbearance
and control that the man possessed. He looked as one stricken, his
face a turmoil of jealousy, grief, despair, and disappointment. But
gradually a gentler light shone in his eyes,--a light radiant, and
triumphant; love was conqueror and raising his head he murmured:

"Where is the child?"

She sped to his side.

"So you love him, do you, little girl?" he asked, smiling faintly down
at her as he encircled her with his great arm.

"Yes, Zenas Henry," she whispered.

For a moment he held her close as if he could never let her go.

"Well, Tiny," he said, "I don't know as we have anything to say against
it. He's your nephew an' she's my daughter--yes, my daughter," he
added fiercely, "in spite of the Lees and the Galbraiths." With a
swift gesture he turned toward Robert Morton. "Young man, I am payin'
you a heavy fee for that motor-boat. I'm handin' over to you the most
precious thing I have in the world. See you value it as you should or,
by God, your life won't be worth a straw to Willie, the three captains,
or me."

They saw him wheel abruptly and stride alone into the shadow of the low
pines. Silently the others drifted from the room and Delight was left
alone with her lover.

As Bob caught the girl in his arms, a great wave of passion surged
through his body, causing its every fiber to vibrate in tune with the
mad beating of his heart. He kissed her hair, her cheeks, the white
curve of her exquisite throat; he buried his face in her hair and let
his hands wander over its silky ripples.

"I love you," he panted,--"I love you with all my heart. Tell me you
love me, Delight."

"You know I do," was the shy answer.

Again he kissed her soft lips.

"I mustn't stay, Bob,"