Donald's neck, as much at ease as though he had known him all of
his dear little life. Awake and rested, he must needs be tumbled about
and played with, which our visitor seemed pleased to do. The strain
would have been more than terrible, had it not been for the sweet
influence of the child who occupied us both constantly on our long walk,
home.

Meeting one's husband again after so many years, is something akin to
the sensations of drowning--every ugly scene of our married life flashed
across my brain, also every kindness that he had done me became equally
prominent in my memory, that faculty one cannot cast away as one throws
down a _serviette_ at table.

Twilight found us still without words for each other, but when the back
logs were lighted (these October nights are cold in the Black Hills) our
thoughts came more freely. I find that I care for him as I would for
something long dead and half forgotten, but I am grateful for that, as I
was half afraid that I couldn't be even patient with him. However the
tolerance that we learn through suffering is the most beautiful
offspring of real grief.

It was very difficult for me to speak of Carlton and our wonderful life
that is buried out there on the mountain side, but he is indeed
sympathetic and never interrupted the long and frequent silences that my
inmost memory created. The logs burnt in halves and fell with myriad
sparks and display to the sides of the fireplace, but we touched them
not. He seemed to realize that Carlton and I were not married in the
eyes of the law. How he divined it I do not know, unless it is that he
has an uncanny way of reading one's thoughts. He said that he knew and
that he understood, and further, that I am a stronger and better woman
for all that I have suffered and done. He wants me to leave my West and
live again in New York, where he hopes to recreate in me the old feeling
for him which he so ruthlessly squandered, when it was his own.

He is earnest and sad and I wish that I might care again, for he needs
help and so do I, and at least, with our past experiences we might
escape some of the ways of wounding each other that married people seem
to possess in such unlimited quantities.

Toward midnight the last candles that Tokacon had placed in the sconces,
flickered and went out. The helpless embers flared up for the last time,
then sank down resigned. Donald knelt beside me sobbing bitterly, with
his head upon my knee. All seems t