She shook her head, albeit she was very close to his breast. "You're not, Billikins!" she declared, with vehemence. "You only say that--out of pity. And I don't want pity. I--I'd rather you hated me than that! Miles rather!" His arms went round her. He uttered a queer, passionate laugh and drew her to his heart. "And what if I offer you--love?" he said. "Have you no use for that either, my wife--my wife?" She turned and clung to him, clung fast and desperately, as a drowning person clings to a spar. "But I'm not, Billikins! I'm not!" she whispered, with her face hidden. "You shall be," he made steadfast answer. "Before God you shall be." "Ah, do you believe in God?" she murmured. "I do," he said, firmly. She gave a little sob. "Oh, Billikins, so do I. At least, I think I do; but I'm half afraid, even now, though I did try to do--the right thing. I shall only know for certain--when the dream comes true." Her face came upwards, her lips moved softly against his neck. "Darling," she whispered, "don't you hope--it'll be--a boy?" He bent his head mutely. Somehow speech was difficult. But Puck was not wanting speech of him just then. She turned her red lips to his. "But even if it's a girl, darling, it won't matter, for she'll be born on the right side of the safety-curtain now, thanks to your goodness, your generosity." He stopped her sharply. "Puck! Puck!" Their lips met. Puck was sobbing a little and smiling at the same time. "Your love is the safety-curtain, Billikins darling," she whispered, softly. "And I'm going to thank God for it--every day of my life." "My darling!" he said. "My wife!" Her eyes shone up to his through tears. "Oh, do you realize," she said, "that we have risen from the dead?" The Experiment CHAPTER I ON TRIAL "I really don't know why I accepted him. But somehow it was done before I knew. He waltzes so divinely that it intoxicates me, and then I naturally cease to be responsible for my actions." Doris Fielding leant back luxuriously, her hands clasped behind her head. "I can't think what he wants to marry me for," she said reflectively. "I am quite sure I don't want to marry him." "Then, my dear child, what possessed you to accept him?" remonstrated her friend, Vera Abingdon, from behind the tea-table. "That's just what I don't know," said Doris, a little smile twitching the corner of her mouth. "However, it doesn't signify greatly. I don't mind being engaged for a little while if he is good, but I certainly shan't go on if I don't like it. It's in the nature of an experiment, you see; and it really is necessary, for there is absolutely no other way of testing the situation." She glanced at her friend and burst into a gay peal of laughter. No one knew how utterly charming this girl could be till she laughed. "Oh, don't look so shocked, please!" she begged. "I know I'm flippant, flighty, and foolish, but really I'm not a bit wicked. Ask Phil if I am. He has known me all my life."