Elspeth was different also. In every way she was improved, as her face had filled out, and her figure looked less fragile, and her eyes were less like those of a hunted deer. Good food and a happy love--for happy it was in spite of untoward circumstances--had done much to improve the miserable little drudge of the inn. Hand in hand the lovers sat, for they were more lovers than ever, and the marriage bond was yet new to them. There was only one electric lamp alight and that was at the end of the rather large room, therefore Mr. and Mrs. Herries sat in comparative twilight. After all the storm and stress of the last few weeks, they felt extremely happy and like weary sailors who had reached a safe port. Elspeth made some such remark, but Angus laughed as he kissed her. "You dear, silly darling," said the young man, slipping his arm round her waist, "we are not in port yet; there is a long voyage before us, and a stormy one, before we are safely berthed." "What do you mean, dear? You are safe." "My life is and my liberty, but you forget, Elspeth, that I am as poor and friendless as ever." "Not friendless, since you have me." He pressed her to his breast. "I count you as more than a friend, as my wife." "Well then, there is Dr. Browne----" "He's a trump." "And Sweetlips Kind." "The best fellow in the world, save Browne." "And my father." Here Herries' eulogies came to a stand-still. He screwed up his face and shook his head. "I am not so sure that we can call your father a friend, Elspeth." "Oh, Angus, when he saved your life." "My dear, I am well aware of that, but his reason was simply a pecuniary one. He told me plainly that he would not have put himself out had I not married you." "Ah," said Elspeth somewhat bitterly, "he is only too glad to get rid of me. I have always been an encumbrance to him." "Well, at least, you are now with someone who appreciates you," said Angus, kissing her. "Do you really mean that, Angus? Do you really love me?" "Darling, is there any need to tell you?" "Every need," she said vehemently, and with a suspicion of tears in her voice, "I have been so lonely all my life. No one has ever loved me. I have been kicked about from pillar to post, neglected, starved, beaten, scorned. Oh, dearest heart," she looked up passionately into his face, "can you wonder that I want you to tell me again and again how much you love me." "I love you,--I love you,--I love you. There, will that do?" "Again! Again!" she hid her face in his breast, and he bent over her till his lips touched her soft hair. "I love you with all my heart and soul, you are the one woman in the wide world to me." "And I am the only woman, not Maud." "Maud!" he snapped his fingers, "pouf." "Ah," said Elspeth jealously, "but you loved her,--you would have married her."