Thank you--and good-night."
"Thank you, sir. Good-night, Mr. Kendrick--and Mrs. Kendrick, if I may."
"Good-night, Rogers," called the voice Rogers had learned greatly to
admire, and he saw her face smiling at him as the lights of the car
streamed out upon it.
Then the great car was gone, and Richard was throwing open the door of
the cabin, letting all the warmth and glow and fragrance of the snug
interior greet his bride, as he led her in and shut the door with a
resounding force against the winter night and storm.
It had been a dream of his that he should put her into one of the big,
cushioned, winged chairs, and take his own place on the hearth-rug at
her feet. Together they should sit and look into the fire, and be as
silent or as full of happy speech as might seem to befit the hour. Now,
when he had bereft her of her furry wraps and welcomed her as he saw
fit, he made his dream come true. He told her of it as he put her in her
chair, and saw her lean back against the comfortable cushioning with a
long breath of inevitable weariness after many hours of tension.
"And you wondered which it would be, speech or silence?" queried
Roberta, as he took that place he had meant to take, at her knee, and
looked up, smiling, into her down-bent face.
Pages:
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425