Well, she would show him that she, too, could wait—­could be as cool and indifferent as himself.  She assumed a graceful attitude in an easy-chair, her pretty little feet upon a velvet-cushioned stool, and with her book lying in her lap listened intently to every sound coming from the adjoining room.

At last she heard his step approach the door, then his hand upon the knob, when she instantly took up her book and fixed her eyes upon its open page, as though unconscious of everything but what was printed there, yet really not taking in the meaning of a single word.

Edward came in, came close to her side.  Still she neither moved nor lifted her eyes.  But she could not control her color, and he saw through her pretences.

He knelt down beside her chair, bent his head and looked up into her face with laughing eyes.

“What can it be that so interests my little wife that she does not even know that her husband has come home, after this their first day of separation?  Have you no kiss of welcome for him, little woman?”

The book was thrust hastily aside, and in an instant her arms were about his neck, her lips pressed again and again to his.

“O Ned, I do love you!” she said softly, “but I began to think you didn’t care for me—­going to see mamma first, and then waiting to dress.”

“Mamma and grandpa were concerned in the business that took me away to-day, and I owed them a prompt report upon it; yet I looked in here first for my wife, but couldn’t find her; then I asked for her, and was told that she had been seen going out for a walk.  So I thought I would dress and be ready for her when she came in.”

“Was that it?” she asked, looking a little ashamed.  “But,” regarding him with critical eyes, “you’d better always let me help with your dressing; your cravat isn’t tied nicely, and your hair doesn’t look half so well as when I brush it for you.”

“Can’t you set matters straight, then?” he asked, releasing her from the close embrace in which he had held her for the last few minutes.

“Yes; just keep still as you are, and I’ll re-tie the cravat.”

He held still, enjoying, as he always did, having her deft fingers at work about him, and gazing the while into the pretty face, with eyes full of loving admiration.

“There!” she said at length, leaning back a little to take in the full effect, “I don’t believe that can be improved upon.”

“Much obliged,” he said, getting up from his knees.  “Now, what next?”

“Your hair, of course,” she answered, jumping up and leading the way into the dressing-room.  “Sit down,” arming herself with comb and brush, “you know I’m not tall enough to reach your head while you’re standing up.”

He obeyed, asking, “What have you been doing to-day?”

“What a question!” she returned, laughing; “of course, I’d take my pleasure when my lord and master was away.”