s logically aligned. They came and went
with other thoughts between, pro and con. But thoughts do not always
sway destiny. In the crisis often enough there is no time for so slow a
process as thinking; instinct leaps. Instinct compels. All of the
thought in the world will not draw a steel needle to a bit of wood; all
of the thought in the world will not hold back the same needle from a
magnet. There are urges which must be obeyed, the urge of spinning
worlds to circling suns, the urge of man to maid.

"Gloria!" he said huskily. "Gloria!"

"Yes, Mark?" she said quietly, trying to speak very calmly and as though
she did not know, oh, so well, all that tumult that lay behind his
calling her name. But despite her determination she was agitated; the
moment had come; there was no stopping it. And did she want it? What did
she want? What, exactly, did she feel?

She knew what was in his heart! His soul exulted as the certainty rushed
upon him. She knew what he was going to say; words were needless between
them. And the colour merely deepened in her cheeks while she hid her
eyes from him.

He came to her swiftly. She rose as swiftly to her feet. He saw that a
tremor shook her. He saw that she did not draw back from him; her eyes
at last lifted to meet his own. They baffled him; he could not read
their meaning. But they shone on him softly; they were the eyes of her
whom he loved. Like magnet and steel they were swept together. He had
her in his arms; he felt against his breast the wild flutter of her
heart, against his face the soft brushing of her hair. He felt her body
tense but unresisting in his arms; suddenly she relaxed, her head was
against his breast. Gloria in his arms--Gloria's sweet face hidden from
him against his rough shirt----

"Gloria!" he cried again. "Gloria!"

"The--the bacon!" gasped Gloria. "It's burning----"

She freed herself, and while he let her go he stood watching her with
the new look in his eyes. Scarlet-faced she flashed her look at him from
across the table. Then she fled to the stove and retrieved the burning
bacon as though here were the one matter of transcendent importance.
King began to laugh, his laughter as joyous as a boy's.

"Gloria----"

"That's five times you've said 'Gloria,'" she informed him hurriedly.
"And----Please, Mark," as he moved toward her. "And you haven't read
papa's letter yet. And--and I'm dying to know what is in that funny
package. Aren't you?"

"If I'm dyi