“You can make fun of me—I don’t care,” she pouted. “Well, after you left, Mrs. Birmingham sent me some books to read for her. And I’ve been reading this one!” She picked it up, only to drop it as though it burned her. “It’s all about a young couple like us,” she informed, “and they had two babies, a boy and a girl, and so I put Howard and Elinor in their places. I had just finished the story when you came in.” “Well, it certainly must have been exciting, judging from the way I found you when I came in.” “It was—terrible—dear!” She shuddered. “The man became very wealthy through an inheritance, but I pretended it was through an invention—Darling, what about you—I forgot to ask you?” “Finish telling me your story first, and then I’ll tell you,” he answered quietly. “There isn’t anything more to tell. Only the most dreadful things happened to them all. You can’t imagine how happy I was when I realized I had only been reading a book,” she sighed, “and now, dear, how about you? Were you successful?” “Why—why,” he hesitated for a moment, “yes, dear—I——” “Oh—no—no dear—don’t tell me that!” There was a catch in her voice as her hand went out to him pleadingly. “Why, darling, I don’t understand you.” He tried to look into her eyes. “I thought you wanted to be rich—to live in New York and do all the things you had planned?” “Oh, no—no.” She threw her arms about him. “I just want to stay here—with my babies, and my husband, and—my happiness!” “Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, sweetheart, then I’ll tell you the truth,” Hugh answered. “I fibbed to you just now—I didn’t succeed.” “You _didn’t_ succeed?” Her eyes sparkled as she asked the question. “No, dear.” He shook his head. “I’m an utter failure. My invention isn’t worth anything just yet. I’m afraid we’ll just have to remain poor—for awhile.” “Oh, I’m so happy!” Marjorie exclaimed joyously. “But we can never be poor, dear, while we possess love, the greatest fortune in the world!” “Sweetheart!” He kissed her again. “Tell me what it was that made you change your ideas?” “It was just the book I read to-night, dear—that’s all,” she answered solemnly. “The book God must have sent me in time—just to open my eyes.” “This little thing?” He picked up the volume from where Marjorie had dropped it on the table. He read the title aloud. “Hmmph! ‘Building Castles!’ Why that should have pleased you, dear,” he remarked, with a grin. “Isn’t that what you’re always doing?” “No more! No more!” Marjorie shook her head till the blonde curls threatened to loosen their holding pins. “I have all the castle I want right here. Why, just look around this room! Isn’t it wonderful?” Hugh glanced carelessly about. “It’s a comfortable enough kitchen,” he remarked casually, “but I don’t see any particular wonders about it.”