"Go fishing. If you'll put up a jolly little--I mean a jolly big--lunch, and array yourself in unspoilable attire, I'll give you a day's great sport, whether we catch any fish or not. There's one fish you're sure of--he's always on the end of your line: hooked fast, and resigned to his fate. Juliet, are they really all gone?" "I'm sure they are." "Good Mary McKaim--peace be to her ashes, for she never gets any on the toast--has she gone, too?" "She's packing." "Rachel safe at home with her presumable fiance?" "He can't be her fiance, Tony--" "That's what Lockwood said--but I suppose he can, just the same. Rachel away, do you say?" "Yes. She didn't come over to-day at all, you know." "I noticed it--by the gloom on three stalwart men's faces. Well, if everybody's safely out of the way I'm going to commit myself." "To what, Tony?" She was laughing, for he had risen, looked all about him with great anxiety, tiptoed to each door and listened at it, and was now come back to stand before her, smiling down at her and holding out his arms. "To the statement," he said, gathering her close and speaking into her upturned rosy face, "that without doubt this is the dearest home in the world, and that you are the sweetest woman who ever has stood or ever will stand here in it." XIX.--ALL THE APRIL STARS ARE OUT It was an April night--balmy with the breath of an exceptionally early spring. All the April stars were out as Anthony came to the door of the little house, and opening it flung himself out upon the porch, drawing great breaths. He looked up into the sky and clasped his arms tightly over his breast. "O God," he said aloud, "take care of her--" He went back into the house after a minute, and paced the floor back and forth, back and forth, stopping at each turn to listen at the foot of the stairs; then took up his stride again, his lips set, his eyes dark with anxiety. Over and over he went to the open door to look up at the stars, as if somehow he could bear his ordeal best outdoors. When half the night had gone Mrs. Dingley came downstairs. Anthony met her at the foot. She smiled reassuringly into his face. "This is hard for you, dear boy," she said. "But they think by morning----" "Morning!" he cried. "Everything is going well----" "It's only two o'clock. Morning!" "She says tell you she's going to be very happy soon." But at that Anthony turned away, where his face could not be seen, and stood by the open door. Mrs. Dingley laid an affectionate hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Tony," she said gently. "I can't help it." "This is new to you. Juliet is young and strong--and full of courage." "Bless her!" "In the morning you'll both be very happy." "I hope so." "Why, Anthony, dear," said the kindly little woman, "I never knew you to be so faint of heart." Anthony faced around again. "If my strength could do her any good I'd be a lion for her," he said. "But when all I can do is to wait--and think what I'd do if----"