Bill grinned sheepishly. It was a long time since his wife had shown such affection for him. "No," was his quick reply. But her conscience bade her make sure that he was comfortable. She drew a big arm-chair from the corner and placed it in the center of the room, taking a pillow from the sofa and putting it on the back of the chair. Gently she sat Bill down in it. He didn't know what to make of it all and he looked up at her, asking, with a chuckle: "What's the matter, mother, you sick?" She laughed. "No, Bill, I ain't sick. I'm just thinkin'." Bill looked straight ahead of him. She took her rocking-chair and placed it next to him. Clasping one of his hands, she leaned forward. "You've forgiven me, 'ain't you, Bill?" "Yep," chirped Bill, without so much as a glance. Her attempt to make love to Bill was not meeting with the success she had hoped, but she was bound to make up to him for all the sorrow of the last few months, and so she did not notice his apparent indifference. "Just think," she exclaimed, enthusiastically, "the place is ours again!" "You mean it's yours again," said Bill, slowly. "No," She shook her head emphatically. "_Ours_, after this, Bill." "All right," Bill replied, again not moving. Mrs. Jones, seeing that her attempts to be affectionate were falling upon unfertile ground, dropped his hand. "How did Mr. Marvin manage to get it away from them?" she asked. For the first time Bill took interest. "I fixed it," he said, sitting up straight in his chair. "Do you want me to tell you how much money you get out of the waterfall?" "Yes, Bill. But please say _we_ get it." "You mean I get half of it?" Mrs. Jones nodded. "And you're going to keep it for me?" he went on. She smiled at him and nodded again. "How did you know about my getting the place back?" he asked. "Lem Townsend told me," she informed him. "Did you know that he and Mrs. Davis were married to-day?" Bill didn't know it, but he didn't intend that his wife should know this. Playing up to form, he smiled indulgently upon her as he stated, glibly, "Yes, I fixed it!" They smiled wisely upon each other and Mrs. Jones once again took her husband's hand. "We won't have any more divorce people here, will we, Bill?" "Then you will have to close up," was his answer. "I want to close up, Bill." Her voice was full of deep tenderness. "I want to have a home again." "All right," Bill said, getting up from the chair. Display of affection always embarrassed him. His attitude amused and at the same time hurt Mrs. Jones, so she changed her subject to one that she felt might interest him. "We are all going to have some supper soon, Bill. I have been cooking it," she said. Bill patted her tenderly on the hand. "Mother, I found out one thing when I was at the Home. I found that you were a good cook." She smiled happily, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. Bill looked at her a moment in surprise; then he laughed.