"No, I suppose it would hardly do to send you to school, even if I could spare you--which I can't," he returned laughingly, "but there is a possibility of studying at home, under a governess or tutor. What do you say to offering yourself as a pupil to grandpa?" "Oh, no, no! I'm sure he can be very stern upon occasion. I've seen it in his eyes when I've made a foolish remark that he didn't approve, and I should be too frightened to learn if he were my teacher." "Then some one else must be thought of," Edward said, with a look of amusement. "How would I answer?" "You? Oh, splendidly!" "You are not afraid of me?" "No, indeed!" she cried, with a merry laugh and a saucy look up into his face. "And yet I'm the only person who has authority over you." "Authority, indeed!" with a little contemptuous sniff. "You promised to obey, you know." "Did I? Well, maybe so, but that's just a form that doesn't really mean anything. Most any married woman will tell you that." "Do you consider the whole of your marriage vow an unmeaning form, Zoe?" he asked, with sudden gravity and a look of doubt and pain in his eyes that she could not bear to see. "No, no! I was only in jest," she said, dropping her eyes and blushing deeply. "But really, Edward, you don't think, do you, that wives are to obey like children?" "No, love, I don't; and I think in a true marriage the two are so entirely one--so unselfishly desirous each to please the other--that there is little or no clashing of wills. Thus far ours has seemed such to me. How is it, do you think, little wife?" "I hope so, Edward," she said, laying her head on his shoulder, "I know one thing--that there is nothing in this world I care so much for as to please you and be all and everything to you." "And I can echo your words from my very heart, dearest," he said, caressing her. "I hope you are at home and happy among your new relatives." "Yes, indeed, Edward, especially with mamma. She is the dearest, kindest mother in the world; to me as much as to her own children, and oh, so wise and good!" "You are not sorry now that you and I are not to live alone?" he queried, with a pleased smile. "No, oh, no! I'm ever so glad that she is to keep house at Ion and all of us to live together as one family." "Except Lester and Elsie," he corrected; "they will be with us for a short time, then go to Fairview for the winter. And it will probably become their home after that, as mamma will buy it, if Mr. Leland--Lester's uncle, who owns the place--carries out his intention of removing to California. His children have settled there, and, of course, the father and mother want to be with them." The sun had set, and all the bright hues had faded from the sea, leaving it a dull gray.