Dinner over, they retired to their cozy library where the logs burned brightly and all looked cheerful comfort. "Come, dear," said Alma, drawing his big chair nearer to the fire, and placing a cushion for his feet. Will looked his surprise. Never before had she attempted to wait upon him. He had always been the willing slave. "Thank you, dear," he said tenderly, and he dropped his stalwart form into the chair with relief. Alma reached for his paper and then drew a cigar from the stand. Both she handed to him smiling. He took them but laid them aside. "No, no, Alma. I want only you to-night." And he drew her down lovingly into his lap. Could it be possible that her slight effort had brought back the old perfect order of things again? Will was his old self, lovingly tender, to-night. Weary, yes, but not the slightest irritable. He looked at her long and fixedly for a few moments and she returned his gaze with a sweet questioning smile. "Alma, I'm fearfully worried to-night over business." "Forget it. Will," she said lightly, placing her cool hand on his hot forehead. "You say you only want _me_--then think only of _me_." "As usual, you don't want to be bothered talking about it," he said with a shade of impatience. "No, no. Will" she answered quickly. "I _want_ to talk with you to-night. You must tell me every ugly detail. Perhaps I can help you." He held her out at arms' length, and eyed her curiously. "Whence this change? Too bad it didn't come sooner. It is too late now," he said cynically. Alma felt hurt. Her first attempt to be unselfish he repulsed. Her little petulant frown appeared, and the light died from her eyes. Instantly his tone changed. Drawing her face down to his, he murmured tenderly, "Smile, dearest. I need it. Yes, the change has come too late, but thank God it has come. You will have many chances to show your courage, dear." She drew away from him like a frightened child. "O, Will, what _is_ going to happen?" "God alone knows, Alma." Then his eyes shot a sudden fire and the grasp of his hand hurt. "Alma, whatever does happen, remember that you are mine,--mine always! Tell me, could you ever forget _that_?" he questioned almost fiercely. Alma's sensitive form quivered, and her eyes filled. She tried to draw her hands away, but he held them firm. "You frighten me, Will. Of course I'm always yours. What troubles you, dear?" she asked tremulously. A great tenderness superseded his sterner mood. He folded her gently in his arms. "You have said it, dear. I am so doubtful about everything to-night. I was almost foolish enough to think you wouldn't." Her white arms lovingly encircled his neck and he could feel her tears wet his face. "Dear Will, I love you--more to-night than ever. I don't know why. Something new has come to me--a sort of mother-love for my poor, tired Will."