Helwyze listened, with his eyes fixed on the speaker so intently that it startled the new-comer, when, without a sound to warn him of her approach, he turned suddenly upon her with the smile which dazzled without warming those on whom it was shed.

"I have been chiding this capricious fellow for the haste which spoils the welcome I hoped to give you. But I pardon him, since he brings the sunshine with him," he said, going to meet her, with genuine pleasure in his face.

"I could not have a kinder welcome, sir. I was glad to come; Felix feared you might be needing him."

"So duty brought him back a week too soon? A poet's honeymoon should be a long one; I regret to be the cause of its abridgement."

Something in the satirical glimmer of his eye made Gladys glance at her husband, who spoke out frankly--

"There were other reasons. Gladys hates a crowd, and so do I. Bad weather made it impossible to be romantic, so we thought it best to come home and be comfortable."

"I trust you will be; but I have little to offer, since the attractions of half a dozen cities could not satisfy you."

"Indeed, we should be most ungrateful if we were not happy here," cried Gladys, eagerly. "Only let me be useful as well as happy, else I shall not deserve this lovely home you give us."

"She is anxious to begin her ministrations; and I can recommend her, for she is quick to learn one's ways, patient with one's whims, fruitful in charming devices for amusement, and the best of comrades," said Canaris, drawing her to him with a look more grateful than fond.

"From that speech, and other signs, I infer that Felix is about to leave me to your tender mercies, and fall to work upon his new book; since it seems he could not resist making poetry when he should have been making love. Are you not jealous of the rival who steals him from you, even before the honeymoon has set?" asked Helwyze, touching the little manuscript before him.

"Not if she makes him great, and I can make him happy," answered Gladys, with an air of perfect content and trust.

"I warn you that the Muse is a jealous mistress, and will often rob you of him. Are you ready to give him up, and resign yourself to more prosaic companionship?"

"Why need I give him up? He says I do not disturb him when he writes. He allowed me to sit beside him while he made these lovely songs, and watch them grow. He even let me help with a word sometimes, and I copied the verses fairly, that he might see how beautiful they were. Did I not, Felix?"

Gladys spoke with such innocent pride, and looked up in her husband's face so gratefully, that he could not but thank her with a caress, as he said, laughing--

"Ah, that was only play. I've had my holiday, and now I must work at a task in which no one can help me. Come and see the den where I shut myself up when the divine frenzy seizes me. Mr. Helwyze is jailer, and only lets me out when I have done my stint."

Full of some pleasurable excitement, Canaris led his wife across the room, threw open a door, and bade her look in. Like a curious child, she peeped, but saw only a small, bare cabinet de travail.

"No room, you see, even for a little thing like you. None dare enter here without my keeper's leave. Remember that, else you may fare like Bluebeard's Fatima." Canaris spoke gayly, and turned a key in the door with a warning click, as he glanced over his shoulder at Helwyze. Gladys did not see the look, but something in his words seemed to disturb her.

"I do not like this place, it is close and dark. I think I shall not want to come, even if you are here;" and, waiting for no reply, she stepped out from the chill of the unused room, as if glad to escape.

"Mysterious intuition! she felt that we had a skeleton in here, though it is such a little one," whispered Canaris, with an uneasy laugh.

"Such a sensitive plant will fare ill between us, I am afraid," answered Helwyze, as he followed her, leaving the other to open drawers and settle papers, like one eager to begin his work.

Gladys was standing in the full glare of the fire, as if its cheerful magic could exorcise all dark fancies. Helwyze eyed the white figure for an instant, feeling that his lonely hearth-stone had acquired a new charm; then joined her, saying quietly--

"This is the place where Felix and I have lived together for nearly two years. Do you like it?"

"More than I can tell. It does not seem strange to me, for he has often described it; and when I thought of coming here, I was more curious to see this room than any other."

"It will be all the pleasanter henceforth if Felix can spare you to me sometimes. Come and see the corner I have prepared, hoping to tempt you here when he shuts us out. It used to be his; so you will like it, I think." Helwyze paced slowly down the long room, Gladys beside him, saying, as she looked about her hungrily--

"So many books! and doubtless you have read them all?"

"Not quite; but you may, if you will. See, here is your place; come often, and be sure you never will disturb me."

But one book lay on the little table, and its white cover, silver lettered, shone against the dark cloth so invitingly that Gladys took it up, glowing with pleasure as she read her own name upon the volume she knew and loved so well.

"For me? you knew that nothing else would be so beautiful and precious. Sir, why are you so generous?"

"It amuses me to do these little things, and you must humor me, as Felix does. You shall pay for them in your own coin, so there need be no sense of obligation. Rest satisfied I shall get the best of the bargain." Before she could reply a servant appeared, announced dinner, and vanished as noiselessly as he came.

"This has been a bachelor establishment so long that we are grown careless. If you will pardon all deficiencies of costume, we will not delay installing Madame Canaris in the place she does us the honor to fill."

"But I am not the mistress, sir.