"Well, yes, dear," he said, playing with her soft hair, as he drew her down upon his knee. "The fact is that Mr Parkley is anxious for some attention to be paid to this Cuban gentleman--this Mr Laure." "And he wants us to ask him here," said Hester, gravely; and for a moment a look of pain crossed her face. "Yes. How did you know?" he cried, startled at her words. "I can't tell," she replied, smiling again directly. "I seemed to know what you were going to say by instinct." "But we cannot have him here, can we?" said Dutch, eagerly. "It would inconvenience you so." She remained silent for a moment, and a warm flush appeared upon her face as he gazed at her searchingly; for it was evident that a struggle was going on within her breast, and she was debating as to what she should say. Then, to his great annoyance, she replied-- "I don't think that we ought to refuse Mr Parkley this request, dear. I hardly liked the idea at first, and this Mr Laure did not impress me favourably when we met." Dutch's face brightened. "But," she continued, "I have no doubt I shall like him very much, and we will do all we can to make his stay a pleasant one." Dutch remained silent, and a frown gathered on his brow for a few moments; but the next moment he looked up, smiling on the sweet ingenuous countenance before him, feeling ashamed of the doubts and fancies that had intruded. "You are right, dear," he said, cheerfully. "It is a nuisance, for I don't like any one coming between us and spoiling our evenings; but it will not be for long, and he has come about an enterprise that may bring us a considerable sum." "I'll do all I can, dear," she cried, cheerfully. And then, going to the piano, the tones of her voice fell upon the ears of Dutch Pugh even as the melodies of David on the troubled spirit of Saul of old, for as the young husband lay back in his chair, and listened to his favourite songs--sung, it seemed to him, more sweetly than ever--the tears gathered in his eyes, and he closed them, feeling that the evil spirit that assailed his breast had been exorcised, and that the cruel doubts and fears were bitter sins against a pure, sweet woman, who loved him with all her soul; and he cursed his folly as he vowed that he never again would suffer such fancies to gain an entrance to his breast. For quite an hour they sat thus, she singing in her soft, low voice ballad after ballad that she knew he loved; and he lying back there, dreamily drinking in the happiness that was his, and thanking Heaven for his lot. For the shadow was beaten back, and true joy once more reigned supreme. He was roused from his delicious reverie by the touch of two soft, warm lips on his forehead. "Asleep, darling?" whispered Hester. "Asleep? No," he cried, in a low, deep voice, as he drew her to his heart. "Awake, darling--wide awake to the fact that I am the happiest of men in owning all your tender, true, womanly love."