all right?"

Eveley held her hands a moment, looking searchingly into the thin face
and the shadowy eyes.

"Revolutions are hard work, aren't they?" she asked with deep sympathy.

"Oh, Eveley, they are killing, heart-breaking, soul-wracking," she cried.
"And yet of course it was right and best for me to come," she added
gravely. "Does Lem seem to--miss me?" And there was wistfulness in her
voice.

"He is out there now," said Eveley, waving her hand toward the road. "He
brought me up."

At the first word, Miriam had turned quickly, ready to run down--not to
the house for shelter, but to the car for comfort. But she stopped in a
moment, and came back.

"I shall not see him, of course," she said quietly.

"I brought a message from him. He says you must come home, Miriam, he
says his madness is all purged away, and that you are his and he must
have you. But he wants you to come and live your own life and do as you
wish, only allowing him, to stay in the home not as your husband, but as
your servant until you learn to love and trust him again. He says you
must come, and let him work for you, and take care of you."

Miriam's face was very white, and her eyes deep wells of pain.

"Poor Lem!" she said tenderly. "So sweet--and so weak."

"I think he is finding strength," said Eveley.

For a long time, the two girls stood there, side by side, Eveley looking
into the haze of the sea miles below, Miriam staring down through the
pines to where she knew a car might be waiting in the shadows.

"We must not keep him waiting," she said at last.

Without a word, they turned, hand in hand and started down to the road
again. When she saw the little, well-known car beneath the trees, and Lem
standing rigid beside it, she caught her breath suddenly. Eveley would
have hung back, to let her greet her husband alone, but Miriam clung to
her hand and pulled her forward.

He came to meet them, awkwardly, a gleam of hope in his eyes, but
meekness in his manner. He held out his hand, and Miriam with a little
flutter dropped her own into it, pulling it quickly away again.

"Are you--all right, Lem? You look--thin," she said with shy solicitude.

"I feel thin," he replied grimly. "Are--you coming with us?"

"Yes, of course," said Eveley.

"Yes, of course," Miriam echoed faintly.

"Shall I drive?" suggested Eveley, anticipating complete reconciliation
for the two in their first moment of privacy.

"I will drive," said Lem. "You