roar of lawless thunder and the songs of birds.

The one exception is when we hold in our arms the woman we love, and
for the first time drink in her willing soul through her lips. Then,
and only then, does the note of perfect harmony ring true through the
spheres.

For a long time they sat perfectly still. Not many words had passed, and
these were only repetitions of those they had used before. "Such dear
hands," Jack would say, and kiss them both up and down the fingers,
and then press the warm, pink shell palm to his lips and kiss it again,
shutting his eyes, with the reverence of a devotee at the feet of the
Madonna.

"And, Jack dear," Ruth would murmur, as if some new thought had welled
up in her heart--and then nothing would follow, until Jack would loosen
his clasp a little--just enough to free the dear cheek and say:

"Go on, my darling," and then would come--

"Oh, nothing, Jack--I--" and once more their lips would meet.

It was only when MacFarlane's firm step was heard on the stairs outside
that the two awoke to another world. Jack reached his feet first.

"Shall we tell him?" he asked, looking down into her face.

"Of course, tell him," braved out Ruth, uptilting her head with the
movement of a fawn surprised in the forest.

"When?" asked Jack, his eager eyes on the opening door.

"Now, this very minute. I never keep anything from daddy."

MacFarlane came sauntering in, his strong, determined, finely cut
features illumined by a cheery smile. He had squared things with himself
while he had been dressing: "Hard lines, Henry, isn't it?" he had asked
of himself, a trick of his when he faced any disaster like the present.
"Better get Ruth off somewhere, Henry, don't you think so? Yes, get her
off to-morrow. The little girl can't stand everything, plucky as she
is." It was this last thought of his daughter that had sent the cheery
smile careering around his firm lips. No glum face for Ruth!

They met him half-way down the room, the two standing together, Jack's
arm around her waist.

"Daddy!"

"Yes, dear." He had not yet noted the position of the two, although he
had caught the joyous tones in her voice.

"Jack and I want to tell you something. You won't be cross, will you?"

"Cross, Puss!" He stopped and looked at her wonderingly. Had Jack
comforted her? Was she no longer worried over the disaster?

Jack released his arm and would have stepped forward, but she held him
back.

"No, Jack,--le