"Don't be so cruel, Marie Celeste," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "I know I've not played the game, but I can if you'll give me a chance--I swear I can, and I will! It's the whole of our lives that you're so calmly proposing to smash up. Do you realize that? Have you forgotten all the good times we used to have together--I haven't-- and what a little sport you were?"

He saw her wince as if he had hurt her, and he went on eagerly, pushing his advantage.

"Do you remember years ago that you used to say you would never marry anyone but me when we grew up?"

He laughed rather shakily.

"You never thought it would come true, did you, Marie Celeste? I didn't anyway. But it has, and we're going to be ever so happy ...

I swear I've never given a thought to any woman but you. If I've treated you badly, there's no woman in the world I've treated better. I know it's a rotten argument, but ..."

He stopped, choked by a sudden emotion, for Marie had broken down into bitter crying.

Chris drew her down to his shoulder and kissed her hair. It felt very soft against his lips. He was sure he had conquered, as he thought her tears were tenderness for the past and joy for the future. He did not understand that they were only tears of sorrow for the dream that had gone so sadly awry.

When presently she turned her face away he drew it back again and kissed her lips--he had never kissed them before. The only kisses he had given Marie Celeste in his life had been casual pecks on her cheek when he came from school or went back, and the few awkward kisses he had bestowed upon her since their marriage.

She lay limply against his shoulder, too emotionally wearied to resist him, but her lips were unresponsive.

"Is it all right, Marie Celeste?" he asked presently, and she said: "Yes--yes, I suppose so."

He echoed her words with a frown.

"You suppose so?"

This vague acquiescence was not what he had wanted or expected.

"I'll try my best--if you will."

He kissed her hand.

"I give you my word of honor." He twisted the wedding ring on her finger. "It's much too big," he said.

He smiled faintly.

"I've got thinner--that's why."

"You've no right to get thinner," he said hurriedly. "I shall have to look after you and feed you up. Marie Celeste, we're going to have no end of a good time!"

He was his light-hearted self once more. He felt quite happy again.

It was surprising how fond he had discovered he really was of Marie Celeste since he had kissed her lips. He could not understand why he had never realized before how pretty she was.

"We'll go away somewhere together," he said impulsively. "Where would you like to go? It will be a fine autumn. Shall we go to the moors--or Ireland? Would you like Ireland?"

She smiled faintly at his impulsiveness.

"I don't mind where it is."

"I'd take you to Italy, only it's not the right time of year," he said. "The spring's the time to go to Italy." He laughed. "Feathers is off there soon, you know! He doesn't care a hang about the proper seasons and all that sort of stuff. He just goes where he feels inclined and when."

"Yes." Her face was averted. "I don't think I should care to go to Italy, anyway," she said. How would it be possible to try and turn over this new leaf, if Feathers was to be anywhere about? A little feeling, that was something like homesickness, touched her heart as she thought of him. Chris was very dear, very boyish in his new humility and enthusiasm, but in her weariness she longed for something more stable, something more real and sincere.

She turned to Chris with wet eyes.

"But you can't make yourself love me." she said sorrowfully.

His face flushed and his eyes grew distressed. He drew her back to lean against him so that her eyes were hidden.

"Perhaps I've always loved you--I don't know," he said with sudden earnestness. "I can't expect you to believe me yet, but ...

perhaps some day, Marie Celeste."

He was doing his best, she knew, but his halting words fell vaguely on her empty heart. She had been right when she said that he could not make himself love her.

But the wings of the past were wrapping them around, and with sudden regret fulness for all she had dreamed and lost, she put her arms round his neck and kissed him.

"Well, we'll try, shall we?" she whispered. He returned the kiss eagerly. She would see what a model he could be, he promised. He had not been so happy for a long time. He held her at arm's length, his fingers lost in her soft hair.

"You're such a child to be anybody's wife!" he said laughingly.

She shook her head.

"I think I've grown up very quickly." she answered with a sigh.

"Very well, then, I shall have to teach you how to be a child again," he declared. "How's the head? Do you think you could get dressed and come out? I'm going to buy you a present--lots of presents, frocks and all manner of things."

"I'll go out after lunch, but I don't want lots of presents, really, Chris."

"Well, we'll see." He stood up, still holding her hand. He felt as if a load of care had fallen from his shoulders. He wished he had tried this way of managing her before. He supposed he ought to have known that women liked to be kissed and made a fuss of. He really thought that she was as happy and contented as he was. He drew her to her feet and kissed her gain.

"I'm glad I married you, and n.o.body else, Marie Celeste," he said.

He went out and bought the largest bunch of roses he could find and carried them up to her room. He was desperately anxious to please her. She thanked him with a little empty smile. It was not roses that she wanted, or pearl necklaces, or pretty clothes. She wanted someone really to love her, in all circ.u.mstances and for ever and ever.

But she meant to do her best to keep the compact between them; so she took great pains with her toilet to go out with him, and Chris dutifully admired her frock.

"It's a new one, isn't it?" he asked. She had not the heart to tell him that she had worn it half a dozen times on her honeymoon, and that he had not noticed it. The car was at the door ready for them to start, when a taxi, laden with luggage, came swinging up the road and stopped at the curb.

Chris frowned.

"Who the d.i.c.kens?" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, then broke off as the door of the taxi opened and a girl came running up the steps towards them.

She gave a little cry when she saw Marie.

"You dear thing! Then you are in town! I was so afraid you might be away, but I had to chance it! I was on my way home, and then mother wired to me not to come, as one of the boys has scarlet fever! So I took the bull by the horns and dashed to you on the chance that you would be an angel and take me in for a time!"

She kissed Marie and held a hand to Chris. "You dears! How lovely to see you both!"

It was Dorothy Webber.