l come and help with that packing-case," John said, rising, in his
turn, lumberingly from his place; "then we can have a smoke--eh! Kathie
don't mind, if we sit near the entrance."

The two men went out together, Broomhurst holding the lantern, for the
moon had not yet risen. Mrs. Drayton followed them to the doorway, and,
pushing the looped-up hanging farther aside, stepped out into the cool
darkness.

Her heart was beating quickly, and there was a great lump in her throat
that frightened her as though she were choking.

"And I am his _wife_--I _belong_ to him!" she cried, almost aloud.

She pressed both her hands tightly against her breast, and set her
teeth, fighting to keep down the rising flood that threatened to sweep
away her composure. "Oh, what a fool I am! What an hysterical fool of a
woman I am!" she whispered below her breath. She began to walk slowly up
and down outside the tent, in the space illumined by the lamplight, as
though striving to make her outwardly quiet movements react upon the
inward tumult. In a little while she had conquered; she quietly entered
the tent, drew a low chair to the entrance, and took up a book, just as
footsteps became audible. A moment afterward Broomhurst emerged from the
darkness into the circle of light outside, and Mrs. Drayton raised her
eyes from the pages she was turning to greet him with a smile.

"Are your things all right?"

"Oh, yes, more or less, thank you. I was a little concerned about a case
of books, but it isn't much damaged fortunately. Perhaps I've some you
would care to look at?"

"The books will be a godsend," she returned, with a sudden brightening
of the eyes; "I was getting _desperate_--for books."

"What are you reading now?" he asked, glancing at the volume that lay in
her lap.

"It's a Browning. I carry it about a good deal. I think I like to have
it with me, but I don't seem to read it much."

"Are you waiting for a suitable optimistic moment?" Broomhurst inquired,
smiling.

"Yes, now that you mention it, I think that must be why I am waiting,"
she replied, slowly.

"And it doesn't come--even in the Garden of Eden? Surely the serpent,
pessimism, hasn't been insolent enough to draw you into conversation
with him?" he said, lightly.

"There has been no one to converse with at all--when John is away,
I mean. I think I should have liked a little chat with the serpent
immensely by way of a change," she replied, in the same tone.

"Ah, y