imself warmly, now, that she was the most lovable creature on
earth, and nothing but marriage with her could ever bring him the
necessary peace of mind that would permit him to continue his work
with that zeal and hope of achievement with which he had set about a
career.

He saw so many things now, through the eyes of a great passion, that
seemed utterly different, rendered transcendentally attractive through
the glamor of a strong, deep love. They were things which, before, had
always been viewed dispassionately, almost coldly, yet not without
satisfaction. They had always been part of his scheme, but had no
greater attraction than the mere fact that they were integral parts of
one great whole. Now they became oases, restful shades in the sunlight
of his effort.

He had always contemplated marriage as an ultimately necessary adjunct
to the main purpose. No man, he felt, could succeed adequately, after
a certain measure had been achieved, without a woman at his side, a
woman's influence to keep the social side of a career in balance with
the side which depended upon his direct effort. Now he saw there was
more in it than that. Something more human. Something which made
success a thousand times more pleasing to contemplate. He felt that
with Kate at his side giant's work would become all too easy. Her
ravishing smile of encouragement would be a gentle spur to the most
jaded energies. The delight of bearing her upon his broad shoulders in
his upward career, would be bliss beyond words, and, in the interim of
his great efforts, the care and happiness of her loyally courageous
heart would be a delight almost too good to be true.

His keen mind and straining energies were bathed in the wonderful
fount of love. He was looking for the first time into the magic mirror
which every human creature must, at some time, gaze into. He was
discovering all those pictures which had been discovered countless
millions of times before, and which other coming countless millions
had yet to discover for themselves.

So he rode on dreaming to the rhythmic beat of Peter's willing hoofs.
So he came at last to the distant camp of his subordinate comrades.

He was greeted by the harsh voice and hard, weather-stained features
of McBain wreathed in a smile which was a mere distortion, yet which
augured well.

"I haven't opened the letters, sir," he said, "but I've questioned
Jones close. I guess it's right, all right."

Fyles was once more t