Miss Deane colored furiously, bade a hasty good-night, and departed to
her own room.

"That was a rather hard thrust, my dear," remarked Edward, laughing, as
he led the way into their dressing-room; "not quite polite, I'm afraid."

"I don't care if it wasn't!" said Zoe. "She is always twitting me on my
extreme youth."

"Sour grapes," he said lightly: "she will never see twenty-five again,
and would give a great deal for your youth. And since you are exactly
the age to suit me, why should you care a fig for her sneers?"

"I don't, when I seem to suit you in all respects," returned Zoe with
tears in her voice.

Her back was toward him; but he caught sight of her face in a mirror,
and saw that tears were also glistening in her eyes.

Putting his arm round her waist, and drawing her to him, "I don't want a
piece of perfection for my wife," he said; "she would be decidedly too
great a contrast to her husband: and I have never yet seen the woman or
girl I should be willing to take in exchange for the one belonging to
me. And I'm very sure such a one doesn't exist."

"How good in you to say it!" she said, clinging about his neck, and
lifting to his, eyes shining with joy and love. "O Ned! we were so happy
by ourselves!"

"So we were," he assented, "and so we may hope to be again very soon."