Meanwhile, he accepted his present situation with Carrie, getting what joy out of it he could.

Out came the sun by noon, and poured a golden flood through their open windows.  Sparrows were twittering.  There were laughter and song in the air.  Hurstwood could not keep his eyes from Carrie.  She seemed the one ray of sunshine in all his trouble.  Oh, if she would only love him wholly—­only throw her arms around him in the blissful spirit in which he had seen her in the little park in Chicago—­how happy he would be!  It would repay him; it would show him that he had not lost all.  He would not care.

“Carrie,” he said, getting up once and coming over to her, “are you going to stay with me from now on?”

She looked at him quizzically, but melted with sympathy as the value of the look upon his face forced itself upon her.  It was love now, keen and strong—­love enhanced by difficulty and worry.  She could not help smiling.

“Let me be everything to you from now on,” he said.  “Don’t make me worry any more.  I’ll be true to you.  We’ll go to New York and get a nice flat.  I’ll go into business again, and we’ll be happy.  Won’t you be mine?”

Carrie listened quite solemnly.  There was no great passion in her, but the drift of things and this man’s proximity created a semblance of affection.  She felt rather sorry for him—­a sorrow born of what had only recently been a great admiration.  True love she had never felt for him.  She would have known as much if she could have analyzed her feelings, but this thing which she now felt aroused by his great feeling broke down the barriers between them.

“You’ll stay with me, won’t you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, nodding her head.

He gathered her to himself, imprinting kisses upon her lips and cheeks.

“You must marry me, though,” she said.  “I’ll get a license to-day,” he answered.

“How?” she asked.

“Under a new name,” he answered.  “I’ll take a new name and live a new life.  From now on I’m Murdock.”

“Oh, don’t take that name,” said Carrie.

“Why not?” he said.

“I don’t like it.”

“Well, what shall I take?” he asked.

“Oh, anything, only don’t take that.”

He thought a while, still keeping his arms about her, and then said: 

“How would Wheeler do?”

“That’s all right,” said Carrie.

“Well, then, Wheeler,” he said.  “I’ll get the license this afternoon.”

They were married by a Baptist minister, the first divine they found convenient.

At last the Chicago firm answered.  It was by Mr. Moy’s dictation.  He was astonished that Hurstwood had done this; very sorry that it had come about as it had.  If the money were returned, they would not trouble to prosecute him, as they really bore him no ill-will.  As for his returning, or their restoring him to his former position, they had not quite decided what the effect of it would be.  They would think it over and correspond with him later, possibly, after a little time, and so on.