She flushed a quick scarlet at his words, and impulsively laid her white hands upon his shoulders, lifted her fair face to his, and kissed him softly on the lips. “You do love me,” she murmured. He started slightly and searched her eyes. “Have you doubted it?” he questioned, a shadow of pain crossing his brow. “I—I hoped you did not merely pity me because I was ill and alone in the world,” she faltered. “I could not have borne that out of simple gratitude you should have wished to give me your protection.” “Child! child! did you fear that?” he asked reproachfully. “What can I say to relieve such doubts? You must trust me more fully than that, Salome, or I fear you will not be very happy.” He spoke gently, fondly, but even then he did not pour out his great love into her yearning ears. It had become so natural to him to be cautious and to repress all outward demonstrations that he did not realize how much he was depriving her of. Still he had revealed so much more than he had hitherto, that she was very happy, and she was sorry that she had betrayed her foolish fears. “Forgive me,” she said, with starting tears. He lifted her downcast face and returned the caress she had just given him. “It is easy to pardon you,” he said, smiling—then added: “Now, little woman, you must rest for an hour or two, then I am going to take you away from here to some more fitting place, and to-morrow we will go home.” Home! How her heart thrilled at the word, and beneath his caress. Home! She had not realized until that moment how much of happiness was already hers, in possessing such a husband and the right to share his home; and she pictured in her own mind how delightful she would make it for him, if she could but recover her strength; how she would try, with all her will, to get strong, so that she could minister to his comfort, and make herself all that he could desire in a wife. “Would you prefer to go home by boat or rail?” he asked, breaking in upon these thoughts. “Oh, by rail, if it will be just as agreeable to you,” she answered eagerly. “But are you strong enough to endure so long a ride? You could sleep, you know, on board a steamer,” he returned. “Yes, I am strong enough, and do not wish to sleep the journey away. I love to travel, and even though it is winter, and the scenery will be gray and sombre, I am sure it will be very enjoyable—with _you_,” she said shyly. His face lighted; it thrilled him to see how she loved to be in his presence. “Then it shall be as you wish,” he said, something of his gladness vibrating in his tones. “Now, dear, let me see you comfortably resting, and then I must go to make arrangements for our departure.”