I thought of those leaping flames, the angry, crimson sky, and shuddered. "I'm sorry," I said meekly. He gave a little low laugh under his quickened breath. "You love me!" announced my husband arrogantly, beginning, as usual, at the wrong end. "Why so I do!" I admitted in a small voice. His arms went around me, gently, closely, and I shut my eyes under the touch of his lips on their lids. The dawn-birds were singing--in the room: in my heart. "I love you," said Bill, and kissed my mouth. I lay quite still then, between tears and laughter. "It has taken you," I said, "a very long time to find it out!" "It took me," he contradicted pleasantly, "about three minutes. From the very first--darling." "Me, too!" said I, in utter astonishment. It was true. From the very first. I had fought a good fight, I thought, as I lay there in my utter content, against this heavenly surrender. I pity men who never know this wonderful release of self. Followed a half-hour of the most ridiculous cross-examination: "When did you first--?" "Do you remember--?" "How could you say--?" "Whose girl are you, Mavis? Tell me!" And all the rest of the eternal litany of lovers. Sarah, peeped in to see how I was. Silas, I discovered from her beaming countenance, was all right. I had forgotten to ask. It was with assumed enthusiasm that I heard that a portion of the cane had been saved. It really didn't matter--not to me. Nothing mattered. Only Bill, and my sense of Harbor in the Far Country of my dreams-- "Such a nice fire!" I said, happily, my face on Bill's one unscarred shoulder. "You little wretch!" He kissed me again. Norah arrived with a very early breakfast. I twisted in Bill's hold. To no avail. Bar, again, such strong bars, so tender, so utterly protective. "What's the matter?" "Norah--" "But," said Bill in triumph, after the door had been shut behind the smiling woman, "after all, Mavis, we're married!" "Why, so we are!" I sat up in bed and stared at him. "It's not fair!" said I, hotly. "What?" "We've not even been engaged," I said, "or anything. I don't like it!" "Don't you, honestly?" I shook my head, and then nodded, violently. "You darling!" said my new Bill. "You lovely little thing. I adore you--" "Why didn't you tell me so before?" I asked, in what was a deplorably peevish tone. "Tell you! And get my face slapped! You were the prickliest small porcupine, for all your soft ways--rather not! But Gosh," said Bill, "it was hard--" "You might have saved us a lot of trouble," said I reproachfully. He got to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed. "Might I? I didn't know, you see. I had had your repeated assurance that you regarded me as dirt under your little feet. How could I tell you?" "You were awfully stupid!" said I, with keen satisfaction. But he was kissing my finger-tips, protruding stiffly through the neat bandaging. "Dear little hands!" he said. "Oh, Mavis--if anything had happened to you--"