“Oh yes, of course; and for that reason Ned is kept ever so busy while we are here, and I do think it will be delightful to get away to the seashore with him, where there will be nothing to do but enjoy ourselves.”

Zoe skipped away with the last word, ran up to her room, and began turning over the contents of bureau drawers and taking garments from wardrobes and closets, with the view of selecting such as she might deem it desirable to carry with her on the contemplated trip.

She was humming softly a snatch of lively song, feeling very gay and light-hearted, when, coming across a gray travelling-dress a little worse for the wear, her song suddenly ceased, while tears gathered in her eyes, then began to fall drop by drop as she stood gazing down, upon this relic of former days.

“Just one year ago,” she murmured.  “Papa, papa!  I never thought I could live a whole year without you; and be happy, too!  Ah, that seems ungrateful, when you were so, so good to me!  But no; I am sure you would rather have me happy; and it would be ungrateful to my dear husband if I were not.”

She put the dress aside, wiped away her tears, and took down another.  It was a dark woollen dress.  She had travelled home in it the previous fall, and had worn it once since on a very memorable occasion; her cheek crimsoned at the recollection as she glanced from it to her husband, who entered the room at that instant; then her eyes fell.

“What is it, love?” he asked, coming quickly toward her.

“Nothing, only—­you remember the last time you saw me in this dress?  Oh, Ned, what a fool I was! and how good you were to me!”

He had her in his arms by this time, and she was hiding her blushing face on his breast.  “Never mind, my pet,” he said, soothing her with caresses; “it is a secret between ourselves, and always shall be, unless you choose to tell it.”

“I?  No indeed!” she said, drawing a long breath; “I think I should almost die of mortification if any one else should find it out; but I’m glad you know it, because if you didn’t my conscience wouldn’t give me a bit of peace till I confessed to you.”

“Ah! and would that be very difficult?”

“Yes; I don’t know how I could ever find courage to make the attempt.”

“Are you really so much afraid of me?” he asked, in a slightly aggrieved tone.

“Yes; for I love you so dearly that your displeasure is perfectly unendurable,” she replied, lifting her head to gaze fondly into his eyes.

“Ah, is that it, my darling?” he said, in a glow of delight.  “I deem myself a happy man in possessing such a treasure as you and your dear love.  I can hardly reconcile myself to the thought of a separation for even a few weeks.”

“Separation!” she cried, with a start, and in a tone of mingled pain and incredulity.  “What can you mean?  But I won’t be separated from you; I’m your wife, and I claim the right to cling to you always, always!”