"Yes," he said, and turned away his head.

Her hand, as Jimmie Dale watched, seemed to tighten over her husband's;
and now, though her lips quivered, there came a little smile.

"But we have his memory now, dear," she whispered.

Agitated, the old gentleman moved abruptly away from the chair, and
Jimmie Dale could see that the blue eyes were moist.

"That is true--we have his memory." The old colonel's voice trembled.
And then his shoulders squared like a soldier on parade. "Tut, tut!" he
chided. "Why, we are to be gay to-night! And it is almost time for us to
be going. We, too, shall celebrate. You shall wear the pendant, just as
you did that other night."

"Oh, colonel!" There was mingled delight and hesitation in her
ejaculation. "Do you really think I ought to--that it wouldn't be out of
keeping with our present circumstances?"

"Of course, I think you ought to!" he declared. "And see"--he started
across the room--"I will get it for you, and fasten it around your
throat myself."

He reached the escritoire, opened a little drawer at the top, took out a
key, stooped to the lower drawer, inserted the key, turned it once or
twice in a puzzled way, then tried the drawer, pulled it open--and with
a sharp, sudden cry, reached inside for the steel bond-box.

The little old lady rose hurriedly, in a startled way, from her chair.