ense moral of this present
situation. Being immediately concerned, he could see nothing in his
attitude but a wise and noble disinterestedness. And thus, at a moment
when he wittingly held the future in his hands, he prided himself on
leaving to Alma an entire responsibility--making her, in the ordinary
phrase, mistress of her own fate, and waiting upon her decisions.

'I will think a little longer,' said Alma, sighing contentedly, 'and
then we'll talk about it again. It's quite true I was getting a little
run down, and perhaps--but we'll talk about it in a day or two.'

'Could we decide anything for the present? Would you care to go and
meet the steamer at Plymouth?'

'And take Hughie? Suppose I wrote very nicely to Mamma, and asked if we
might leave Hughie with her, in Hampshire, for a few days? I dare say
she would be delighted, and the other people too. The nurse could be
with him, I dare say. We could call there on our way. And Ruth would
look after the house very well.'

'Write and ask.'

'Then you and I'--Alma began to talk joyously--'might ramble about
Devonshire till the ship comes. Let me see--if we travelled on Monday,
that would give us several days, wouldn't it? And the Carnabys might
either land at Plymouth, or we go on with them in the ship to London.
That's a very good plan. But why lose time by writing? Send a telegram
to Mamma--"Could we leave Hughie and nurse with you for a day or two?"'

Harvey again turned his steps to the post-office, and this message was
despatched. A few hours elapsed before the reply came, but it was
favourable.

'Then we'll leave on Monday!' exclaimed Alma, whose convalescence was
visibly proceeding. 'Just send another telegram--a word or two, that
they may be ready.'

'Might as well have mentioned the day in the other,' said Harvey,
though glad to have something more to do.

'Of course; how thoughtless!'

And they laughed, and were in the best of tempers.

On the morrow, Sunday, they walked together as they had used to do in
the first spring after their marriage; along the grassy cliffs, then
down to the nook where the sand is full of tiny shells, and round the
little headland into the next bay, where the quaint old fishing-village
stands upon the edge of the tide. And Alma was again in love, and held
her husband's hand, and said the sweetest things in the most wonderful
voice. She over-tired herself a little, so that, when they ascended the
cliff again, Harvey h