“I am not weary at all; we have come so short a distance to-day,” she answered. “But——” and she glanced inquiringly at him. He knew of what she was thinking—that she would probably meet his mother, sister, and the Rochesters at this reception—and he smiled reassuringly; then turned again to his friend, remarking: “Thank you, Fred; we shall be happy to accept your invitation. At what hour does Mrs. Tillinghast receive?” “At nine, and later. I am delighted, old fellow. And now I will go to take the good news to my mother,” the young man said, rising to leave. “True,” said Salome, as soon as the door closed after him, “I am afraid they will be terribly surprised—it will be a great shock to them.” “I want them to be taken by surprise,” he replied sternly; “that is to be a part of their punishment. Do you not think that I was surprised, shocked, when I looked back down that ward and saw my wife upon her knees appealing to me? And, Salome,” he continued more quietly, “I want you to look your best to-night—wear that exquisite costume of white lace, which we selected at Worth’s, and I wish you had your diamonds here! Oh, my love, how very proud you were to leave all my gifts behind!” he concluded reproachfully. “True, my husband, believing as I did, I could not take anything that your money had purchased for me—every gift, every obligation was a burden on my heart. Besides,” she added smiling, “everything would have been burned. It is fortunate I did leave your gifts behind, for now I can have them again.” “Ah, I did not think of that,” he said thoughtfully. “Still I wish you had the diamonds.” “I have diamonds,” Salome quietly returned; “some very fine ones, too; they are a part of the legacy left me by Miss Leonard, and,” with a roguish little twinkle gleaming from her eyes, “I think I shall be able to make myself quite presentable for Mrs. Tillinghast’s reception.” CHAPTER XLVI. “SADIE ROCHESTER IS ALREADY MY WIFE!” Two hours later Salome emerged from her chamber and the careful hands of her maid, and presented herself before her husband. “Will I do, True?” she quietly inquired, but with a conscious smile wreathing her red lips. It was not one of vanity, either, but of pure pleasure in her beauty for her husband’s sake. Dr. Winthrop threw down the paper he had been reading and turned eagerly at the sound of her voice. A low exclamation of delight escaped him. “Will you do?” he repeated. “Why, Salome, you are absolutely perfect, from the crown of your dainty head to the sole of that tiny pearl-embroidered slipper!” And truly she was.