“I’m very glad you’ve come, Ned,” remarked Rosie, “for Zoe nearly cried her eyes out yesterday, grieving after you.  ’Twouldn’t be I that would fret so after any man living—­unless it might be grandpa,” with a coquettish, laughing look at him.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said.

“Ah, lassie, that’s a’ because your time hasna come yet,” remarked Mr. Lilburn.  “When it does, you’ll be as lovelorn and foolish as the rest.”

“Granting that it is foolish for a woman to love her husband,” put in Mrs. Dinsmore, sportively.

“A heresy never to be countenanced here,” said her spouse; “the husbands and wives of this family expect to give and receive no small amount of that commodity.  Do you set off again this morning, Ned?”

“No, sir; not before to-morrow; not then unless Zoe is ready to go with me.”

“Quite right, my boy, your wife’s health and happiness are, as your mother remarked to me yesterday, of more consequence than any mere business matter.”

On leaving the table Edward followed his mother out to the veranda.

“Can I have a word in private with you, mamma?” he asked, and she thought his look was troubled.

“Certainly,” she said.  “I hope nothing is wrong with our little Zoe?”

“It is of her—­and myself I want to speak.  I feel impelled to make a confession to you, mother dear, that I would not willingly to any one else.  Perhaps you have suspected,” he added, coloring with mortification, “that all was not right between us when I left yesterday.  She would not have fretted so over my mere absence of a few days, but I had scolded and threatened her the night before, and went away without any reconciliation or even a good-by.  In fact, she was asleep when I left the rooms, and knew nothing of my going.”

“O Edward!” exclaimed his listener in a low, pained tone.

“I am bitterly ashamed of my conduct, mother,” he said with emotion, “but we have made it up and are both very happy again in each other’s love.  She was very humble over her part of the quarrel, poor little thing! and we mean to live in peace and love the rest of our lives, God helping us,” he added reverently.

“I trust so, my dear boy,” Elsie said, “for whether you live in peace or contention, will make all the difference of happiness or misery in your lives.  It would have quite broken my heart had your father ever scolded or threatened me.”

“But you, mamma, were a woman when you married, old enough and wise enough to guide and control yourself.”

“I was older than Zoe is, it is true; but do not be dictatorial, Edward; if you must rule, do it by love and persuasion; you will find it the easiest and happiest way for you both.”

“Yes, mother, I am convinced of it; but unfortunately for my poor little wife, I have not my father’s gentleness and easy temper.  Will you come up with me now and take a look at her?  I fear she is not quite well—­her cheeks are so flushed and her hands so hot.  I shall never forgive myself if I have made her ill.”