“It bites deep, Ned,” said the other, with grave concern. “It bites deep, this wife losing and land losing.” “Not as deep as shame,” snapped the red-faced squire. “I’m a free man of my hands again. And now, by the look of you, you’d best get to bed. Honest man to honest man, Royd, you’re dead-beat?” “Yes--if the house is safe,” said Sir Jasper, with unalterable simplicity. “Oh, trust me, Royd! I’m in command here--and, I tell you, all is safe.” He went upstairs, and into his wife’s room. There was a candle burning on the table at her elbow, and he forgot his own need of sleep in watching hers. The strain of the past days was gone. She lay like a child at peace with God and man, and the peevish, day-time wrinkles were smoothed away; and she was dreaming, had her husband known it, of the days when she had come, as a bride, to Windyhough. A gusty tenderness, a reverence beyond belief, came to Sir Jasper. He forgot all hardships Derby way. The simple heart of him was content with the day’s journey, so long as it brought him this--his wife secure, with happiness asleep about her face. He stooped to touch her, and the spaniel sleeping at her side stood up and barked at him, rousing the mistress. “Be quiet!” she said sleepily. “I was dreaming--that my lord came home again, forgiving all my foolishness.” The spaniel only barked the more. And Sir Jasper, who was by way of being rough just now with all intruders, big or little, pitched him out on to the landing. His wife was awake now, and she looked at him with wide eyes of misery. “You have kept tryst, my dear. You promised--when you rode out--that, if you died, you would come to tell me of it. And I--God help me!--was dreaming that we were young again together.” “We’re very young again together, Agnes,” said Sir Jasper, with a quiet laugh. “Do I look so ghostly that you all mistake me for a wraith?” She touched him, as the squire had done--gently at first, and then with gaining confidence. “You look--as I have never seen you, husband; you are as grey of face as Rupert, when his work was done and they carried him upstairs. Your wound--Jasper, it is not mortal?” “It is healing fast. There, wife, you are only half awake, and I’m dishevelled. I had no time to put myself in order. I was too eager just--just to see my wife again.” And Lady Royd was wide awake now. Not only the husband, but the lover, had returned. “I shall have to take care of you, Jasper,” she said, with the woman’s need to be protective when she is happy. “You’ll need nursing, and----” “I need sleep,” growled Sir Jasper--“just a few hours’ sleep, Agnes, and--and forgetfulness of Derby.” “Ah, sleep! That has been our need, too. We--we none of us went out with you, Jasper--but we kept the house. And we learned what sleep means--more than food or drink, more than any gift that we can ask.”