before him, but without noting anything.
They still had a pretty dinner-table, a dinner-table almost, if not
quite, up to early-married standards, and the shaded candles were
lighted and beneath them there were cut flowers. He never wondered how
Marie managed to stretch that weekly thirty-two and sixpence to cover
the cost of a third baby, occasional new candle-shades and perpetual
flowers. It was better not to inquire. Inquiry raised ideas and
suggestions and requests. He could not afford to inquire. It struck
him vaguely this evening, as he stood looking out somewhere beyond the
dining-room and whistling his happy tune, that everything was very
fairly comfortable.

His wife came in with a big tray and arranged the dinner temptingly
upon the table. When it was all ready he drew up his chair and sat
down with an air of appetite. And he talked; it was as if he exerted
himself to interest her and to be interested, himself, in all that she
said. He listened and commented upon her day's shopping, asked where
she lunched, heard about her visit to Julia at a chic club, and
observed lightly how fashionable she was getting.

He said she looked tired to-night, and must take care of herself.

He was going to stay at home this evening, to sit by the fire and talk
to her; his manner was almost loverlike, and her heart thrilled to it
as she had not thought it could thrill again. She looked at him with
eyes in which her wonder showed; and in her quietened body her passion
seemed to raise its subdued head again, sweet and strong and young.

"I shan't be two minutes clearing away," she said, when they rose. She
felt no more fatigue, but piled all the things on the big tray and
carried it out to the kitchen almost like a feather-weight, and in
less than the two minutes she had assigned, she was back again with
the coffee things, her feet light and her eyes dreaming. She drew her
chair nearer his before the hearth, and stretched out her hand to him,
hungering across the space. He squeezed and dropped it, and leaned
forward, clearing his throat as if he were going to speak words of
moment.

He checked himself and obviously said something else.

"Your coffee is good, dear; you do look after me in a simply tophole
way."

His words were like the prelude of a song to her. She listened for
more, with a smile, a real smile, no more wise, but foolish. It had
the foolishness of all love in it, so easily and completely could he
give her p