oing, is it? That ever I should have lived to
hear you use a phrase like that! But it's a true one, I admit it. I've
let his Satanic Majesty have his own way with me, and bade him welcome,
too. I may again, when I get away from you. But--well--I know you're
right. I--I'll try to bank the fires, little wife. Only don't expect too
much."

"Red," said she,--and it was not at all the sort of rejoinder he might
have expected after his concession,--"why is there no woodpile now behind
the house?"

"Woodpile?" He was clearly puzzled. "Why, there's plenty of wood in the
cellar, you know, if you want fires. You can't be suffering for them,
this weather?"

"No, but I wish there were a woodpile there. Did you think you wouldn't
need one any more after you were married? You should have laid in a
double supply."

"But, what for? Oh!--" Light dawned upon him. "Somebody's told you how I
used to whack at it."

"Yes, and I saw you once myself, only I didn't know what put the energy
into your blows. It was a splendid safety-valve. Red,--send for a load
of wood to-day, please!"

"In July! You hard-hearted little wretch! Do you want me reduced to a
pulp?"

She nodded. "Better that than burning like a bonfire. And better than
running the Imp sixty miles an hour. That doesn't help you,--it merely
helps your arch enemy fan the flames."

He laughed again, and the sound of his own laughter did him good,
according to the laws of Nature. "Bless you, you've put him to rout for
the moment at least, and that's more than any other human soul has ever
done for mine, before."

He kissed her, tenderly, and understanding what he did. In his heart he
adored her for the sweetness and sense which had kept her from taking
these days of trial as a personal affront and finding offence in them.

They went out to dinner, and Burns found himself somehow able to forget
sufficiently to enjoy the appetizing dishes which were served to him, and
to keep his brow clear and his mind upon the table talk. When he went
away, afterward, back to the scene of his irritation and anxiety, he bore
with him a peculiar sense of having his good genius with him, to help him
tend those devastating fires of temperament which when they burned too
fiercely could only hinder him in the fight he waged.

It was almost daybreak when he returned. Ellen was not asleep, although
she did not expect him to come upstairs, if only for fear of disturbing
her at that hour. But present