In that broad tender mellow light she drew a deep
breath and stretched her strong young arms toward the sky in dumb
appeal.
"I knew it would be hard," she murmured to herself, "That is I knew the
facts--but I didn't know the feeling!"
She stood at the gate between the cypresses, sat waiting under the
acacia boughs, walked restlessly up and down the path outside, the dry
pepper berries crush softly under foot; bracing herself for one more
struggle--and the hardest of all.
"He will understand!" he told herself, over and over, but at the bottom
of her heart she knew he wouldn't.
He came at last; a slower, wearier step than usual; came and took both
her hands in his and stood holding them, looking at her questioningly.
Then he held her face between his palms and made her look at him. Her
eyes were brave and steady, but the mouth trembled in spite of her.
He stilled it with a kiss, and drew her to a seat on the bench beside
him. "My poor Little Girl! You haven't had a chance yet to really tell
me about this thing, and I want you to right now. Then I'm going to
kill about forty people in this town! _Somebody_ has been mighty
foolish."
She squeezed his hand, but found it very difficult to speak. His love,
his sympathy, his tenderness, were so delicious after this day's
trials--and before those further ones she could so well anticipate.
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