Her keen eye quickly swept the circle of the wide, silent world of sand-dunes, marsh and waters. No prying eye was near. Only the morning star still gleaming above saw. And they were twin sisters. Four days flew on velvet wings before the first cloud threw its shadow across her life. Jim always slept until nine o'clock, and refused with dogged good-natured indifference to stir when she had asked him to get the wood for breakfast. It was nothing, of course, to walk a hundred yards to the beach and pick up the wood, and she did it. The hurt that stung was the feeling that he was growing indifferent. She felt for the first time an impulse to box his lazy jaws as he yawned and turned over for the dozenth time without rising. He looked for all the world like a bulldog curled up on his bed of grass. She shook him at last. “Jim, dear, you must get up now! Breakfast is almost ready and it won't be fit to eat if you don't come on.” He opened his heavy eyelids and gazed at her sleepily. “All righto----! Just as you say--just as you say.” “Hurry! Breakfast will be ready before you can dress.” “Gee! Breakfast all ready! You're one smart little wifie, Kiddo.” The compliment failed to please. She was sure that he had been fully awake twice before and pretended to be asleep from sheer laziness and indifference. The thought hurt. When they sat down at last to breakfast, she looked into his half-closed eyes with a sudden start. “Why, Jim, your eyes are red!” “Yes?” “What's the matter?” “Nothing.” “You're ill--what is it?” He grinned sheepishly. “You couldn't guess now, could you?” “You haven't been drinking!” she gasped. “No,” he drawled lazily, “I wouldn't say drinking--I just took one big swallow last night--makes you sleep good when you're tired. Good medicine! I always carry a little with me.” A sickening wave went over her. Not that she felt that he was going to be a drunkard. But the utter indifference with which he made the announcement was a painful revelation of the fact that her opinion on such a question was not of the slightest importance. That he was now master of the situation he evidently meant that she should see and understand at once. She refused to accept the humiliating position without a struggle and made up her mind to try at once to mold his character. She would begin by getting him to cut the slang from his conversation. “You remember the promise you made me one day before we were married, Jim?” she asked brightly. “Which one? You know a fellow's not responsible for what he promises to get his girl. All's fair in love and war, they say----” “I'm going to hold you to this one, sir,” she firmly declared. “All right, little bright eyes,” he responded cheerfully as he lit a cigarette and sent the smoke curling above his red head.