"It is only about a hundred acres," said my companion, "mostly in sugar cane. But Reynolds has plenty of money and they were very happy here. When the youngest boy died of fever, Mrs. Reynolds couldn't stand it any longer. The place had too many associations. So they left, last summer, keeping the servants on, for Harry had to make several flying trips back and forth. And he was glad to let us have the house for a time, until he decided what to do with it. His wife swears she will never come here again: and yet, they are reluctant to sell it. I have spent a number of happy holidays here and so ... well, it was all most opportune and providential ... and I am convinced that the climate will be admirable for you." He was speaking in his professional tone, and I, nervous and ill-at-ease, was glad to talk of my returning health and of other prosaic matters. "When you are rested," he said, "in a day or two, we must go into Havana--you will want an account opened there at one of the banks." That reminded me of something that had been troubling me. "But it is not my money," I began rather abruptly, and stopped. "It is," he assured me, "Your father has been very generous with you and you need feel under no obligations to me--unless you object to having me play the host a little until--later." I didn't know what to answer, and blessed Fong's sleek black head, as slippered and silent, he slid in to announce dinner. Norah had outdone herself for the "new Missis." And it was pleasant in the softly lighted room, with the candles burning on the table, shining across delicate old china and worn silver. My husband exerted himself to be amusing. Our talk was all give and take, and there were even laughter awaking echoes in the room. Dinner over, after I had made a face over the strong Cuban, and Bill--it was still so difficult to call him that--had sent out word to Norah that hereafter we would drink the sort of beverage I had been accustomed to, he went to the piano again, and with a little snub-nosed pipe between his teeth, sang ridiculous Bab ballads and played enchanting snatches of melody while, with Wiggles on my lap, I dreamed before the fire. Father would have loved it.... I missed him terribly. The music stopped. "Mavis...." he was beside me, something in his hand. I turned, startled. "I didn't give you a wedding present," he said, half-smiling, "but before we left I had just time to have this made for you." I took the small, black leather case from his hand and opened it. My father's face looked back at me, wonderfully living. Almost it seemed as if the gentle, strong mouth would smile and speak. "I had it painted before--before the tide turned," said Bill, "from the picture he gave me." I closed my hands upon the miniature and my eyes against the tears. "You are very good," I said falteringly. "I--you couldn't have given me anything I could have cared for more."