“Did you wire?  I never got it.  I was so anxious that I couldn’t stay there any longer without news.  So I just packed and came.  Will—­be sensible.  Tell me everything.”

“Best of news!  Reinstated!” He bellowed the glad tidings over her head.  She was all warm and palpitating in his arms, her dear body so delicate and fragile and yet so round and firm, her dear face soft and smooth, with lips that trembled and smelled like garden flowers.

“Did you come up by the nine o’clock train?  How long have you been waiting here?”

“Oh, don’t bother about me.  I’m nothing.  It’s you I want to hear about.”

Then they sat side by side on the narrow little bed, he with his arm firmly clasped round her waist, and she nestling against him with her face hidden on his breast.

“Mav, my bird, I can’t never leave you again.  I’ve bin just a lost dog without you.  Did you start before you got my Sunday letter?”

“Yes.”

“Every day I wrote—­didn’t I?—­just like the old time.  But I’ve a bone to pick with you, young lady.  What d’ye mean by not writing to me more regular?  Not even so much as a post-card these last three days!”

“Will—­I, I couldn’t.  I was too anxious while it all remained in suspense.”

“Yes, but you might have sent me a card.  I told you cards would satisfy me.  I was thinking of you off and on all yesterday.  I can tell you it was just about the longest day of my life.  Did you and Auntie go to church?”

“No.  Oh, don’t ask questions about me—­when I’m dying for a full account of it.”

He asked no more questions.  After stooping to kiss the fragrant coil of hair above her forehead, he burst out into his joyous tale of triumph.

“It was Mr. Barradine that did the trick for me;” and with enthusiasm he narrated the gloriously opportune arrival of “the friend at court.”  Indeed his enthusiasm was so great that he could not keep still while speaking.  He got off the bed, and walked about the room, brandishing his arms.  “He’s just a tip-topper.  If you could have been there to hear him, you wouldn’t ‘a’ left off crying yet.  I tell you I was fairly overcome myself.  It was the way he did it.  ‘Of course,’ he said, ’I want my friend to come out of it as I honestly believe he deserves.’  They couldn’t stand up against him half a minute.  But, mind you, Mav;” and Dale stopped moving, and spoke solemnly, “he’s aged surprising these last few years.  He’s more feeble like than ever one would think, seeing him on his horse.  I mean, his bodily frame.  The int’lect’s more powerful, I should make the guess, than ever it was....  And mind you, here’s another thing, Mav;” and he spoke even more solemnly.  “All this is going to be a lesson to me.  I’ve worn my considering cap most of the time I’ve been away from you—­and, Mav, I’m going to lay to heart the fruits of my experience.  All’s well that ends well, old lady.  But once bit, twice shy; and in the future I’m going to trim my sails so’s to avoid another such an upset.”  He came back to the bed, and sat beside her again.  “I shan’t be too proud to say the gray mare’s the better horse when it comes to steering through the etiquette book, and I mean to mend my manners by Mav’s advice.”