of a man as well as Tim Weeks."

In spite of the pain in his head, Alida's words proved true. He was
happier than he had been in many a long day. He had the glow which
follows a generous act, and the thought that he had pleased a sweet
little woman who somehow seemed very attractive to him that May
morning; at the same time the old Adam in his nature led to a sneaking
satisfaction that he had laid on the hickory so unsparingly the evening
before.

Alida uttered a low, happy laugh as she heard him whistling
"Coronation" in jig time, and she hustled away the breakfast things
with the eagerness of a girl, that she might be ready to read to him
when he came in.

Chapter XXVII.

Farm and Farmer Bewitched

The day grew warm, and having finished her tasks indoors and cared for
the poultry, Alida brought a chair out in the porch. Her eyes were
dreamy with a vague, undefined happiness. The landscape in itself was
cause for exquisite pleasure, for it was an ideal day of the
apple-blossoming period. The old orchard back of the barn looked as if
pink-and-white clouds had settled upon it, and scattered trees near and
far were exhaling their fragrance. The light breeze which fanned her
cheek and bent the growing rye in an adjacent field was perfumed beyond
the skill of art. Not only were her favorite meadow larks calling to
each other, but the thrushes had come and she felt that she had never
heard such hymns as they were singing. A burst of song from the lilac
bush under the parlor window drew her eyes thither, and there was the
paternal redbreast pouring out the very soul of ecstasy. From the nest
beneath him rose the black head and yellow beak of his brooding mate.
"How contented and happy she looks!" Alida murmured, "how happy they
both are! And the secret of it is HOME. And to think that I, who was
a friendless waif, am at home, also! At home with Eden-like beauty and
peace before my eyes. But if it hadn't been for him, and if he were
not brave, kind, and true to all he says--" and she shuddered at a
contrast that rose before her fancy.

She could now scarcely satisfy herself that it was only gratitude which
filled her heart with a strange, happy tumult. She had never been
conscious of such exaltation before. It is true, she had learned to
cherish a strong affection for the man whom she had believed to be her
husband, but chiefly because he had seemed kind and she had an
affectionate disposition. Until