e must have done it because he loved
her!

"No--no. Don't be afraid. The powers looked after that too. There was no
one about--and I don't think he'll talk much about it."

She trembled, fearing yet adoring him. Nothing could have been more
unlike the Amherst she fancied she knew than this act of irrational
anger which had magically lifted the darkness from his spirit; yet,
magically also, it gave him back to her, made them one flesh once more.
And suddenly the pressure of opposed emotions became too strong, and she
burst into tears.

She wept painfully, violently, with the resistance of strong natures
unused to emotional expression; till at length, through the tumult of
her tears, she felt her husband's reassuring touch.

"Justine," he said, speaking once more in his natural voice.

She raised her face from her hands, and they looked at each other.

"Justine--this afternoon--I said things I didn't mean to say."

Her lips parted, but her throat was still full of sobs, and she could
only look at him while the tears ran down.

"I believe I understand now," he continued, in the same quiet tone.

Her hand shrank from his clasp, and she began to tremble again. "Oh, if
you only _believe_...if you're not sure...don't pretend to be!"

He sat down beside her and drew her into his arms. "I am sure," he
whispered, holding her close, and pressing his lips against her face and
hair.

"Oh, my husband--my husband! You've come back to me?"

He answered her with more kisses, murmuring through them: "Poor
child--poor child--poor Justine...." while he held her fast.

With her face against him she yielded to the childish luxury of
murmuring out unjustified fears. "I was afraid you had gone back to
Hanaford----"

"Tonight? To Hanaford?"

"To tell your mother."

She felt a contraction of the arm embracing her, as though a throb of
pain had stiffened it.

"I shall never tell any one," he said abruptly; but as he felt in her a
responsive shrinking he gathered her close again, whispering through the
hair that fell about her cheek: "Don't talk, dear...let us never talk
of it again...." And in the clasp of his arms her terror and anguish
subsided, giving way, not to the deep peace of tranquillized thought,
but to a confused well-being that lulled all thought to sleep.

XXXVII

BUT thought could never be long silent between them; and Justine's
triumph lasted but a day.

With its end she saw what it had been made o