“I'm going to-night. I must, dear. Those are the orders and I've got to obey them.” “But suppose I give you different orders. Surely I have some rights, to-night of all nights. Why, we haven't been engaged ten minutes. Business doesn't always come first.” James hesitated. “It's the last thing I want to do, but when Joe Powers says 'Come!' I know enough to jump.” “But when I say stay?” she pleaded. “Then I stop the prettiest mouth in the world with kisses and run away before I hear the order.” Gaily he suited the action to the word. But, for once swift, she reached the door before him. “Wait. Don't go, dear.” The last word came faintly, unexpectedly. The enticement of the appeal went to his head. He had shaken her out of the indifference that was her pride. One arm slipped round her waist. His other hand tilted back her head until he could look into the eyes in which a new fire had been kindled. “What about that almost glad? If I stay will you forget all qualifying words and be just glad?” She nodded quickly, laughing ever so softly. “Yes, I'll help you listen to the birds sing. Do you know I can almost hear them?” James drew a deep breath and caught her swiftly to him. “New York will have to wait till to-morrow. The birds will sing to-night and we will not count the cost.” “Yes, my lord,” she answered demurely. For to-night she wanted to forget that their birds were only caged canaries. CHAPTER 23 “And what are the names of the Fortunate Isles, Lo! duty and love and a large content; And these are the Isles of the watery miles That God let down from the firmament. Lo! duty and love and a true man's trust, Your forehead to God and your feet in the dust: Lo! duty and love and a sweet babe's smiles, And these, O friends, are the Fortunate Isles.” AND LARKS FOR THE REBEL Beneath a sky faintly pink with the warning of the coming sunrise Jeff walked an old logging trail that would take him back to camp from his morning dip. Ferns and blackberry bushes, heavy with dew, reached across the road and grappled with each other. At every step, as he pushed through the tangle, a shower of drops went flying. His was the incomparable buoyant humor of a lover treading a newborn world. A smile was in his eyes, tender, luminous, cheerful. He thought of the woman whom he had not seen for many months, and he was buoyed up by the fine spiritual edge which does not know defeat. Win or lose, it was clear gain to have loved her. With him he carried a vision of her, young, ardent, all fire and flame. One spoke of things beautiful and her face lit from within. Her words, motions, came from the depths, half revealed and half concealed dear hidden secrets. He recalled the grace of the delicate throat curve, little tricks of expression, the sweetness of her energy.