"Neither can I," he agreed solemnly. "I knew I should miss her,
but--smoke and ashes!--I didn't dream the week would be a period of time
long enough for a ray of light to travel from Sirius to the earth and
back again."

"If she could only hear that!" said I.

"She's going to hear it," he declared with great earnestness. "She's
kept me quiet all summer, but--by a man's impatience!--she can't keep me
quiet any longer. Do you blame me?" he inquired, wheeling to look
intently at me through the September twilight.

"Not a bit," said I. "I've only wished she could stand still until Lad
grows up."

"You must think well of her, to say that," said he delightedly. "And, on
my word, I don't know but she will continue to stand still, as far as
looks go. But in mind--and heart--well, the only thing is, I'm so far
below her I don't dare to hope. All I know is that, for sheer womanly
sweetness and strength, there's nobody her equal. And yet, when I try to
put my finger on what makes her what she is--I can't tell."

"One can't analyze her charm," said I, "except as you've just done
it--womanly sweetness and strength. Hepatica is--Hepatica. And being
that, we love her."

"We do," said he, half under his breath, and caught my hand and gave it
a grip which stung.

* * * * *