When it sounded, she sprang up and hastily dried her eyes.

"The children and Ailsa are all abed, Curt. How late you are! It
was not very wise of you to go out--being so tired--" She was
hovering near him as though to help his weariness with her small
offices; she took his hat, stood looking at him, then stepped
nearer, laying both hands on his shoulders, and her face against
his.

"I am--already tired of the--war," she sighed. "Is it ended yet,
Curt?"

"There is no more news from Sumter."

"You will--love me--best--anyway. Curt--won't you?"

"Do you doubt it?"

She only drew a deep, frightened breath. For within her heart she
felt the weight of the new apprehension--the clairvoyant
premonition of a rival that she must prepare to encounter--a rival
that menaced her peace of mind--a shape, shadowy as yet, but
terrible, slowly becoming frightfully denned--a Thing that might
one day wean this man from her--husband, and son, too--both
perhaps----.

"Curt," she faltered, "it will all come right in the end. Say it.
I am afraid."

"It will come out all right," he said gently. They kissed, and she