"Are they?" Mrs. Lee's voice was low, and had in it a slight
huskiness. She did not turn her face, but her husband saw that she
leaned a little toward him. He had broken through the ice of reserve,
and all was easy now. His hand was among the clouds, and a few feeble
rays were already struggling through the rift it had made.
"Yes, Mary," he answered softly, "and I've heard it said more than
once, what a good wife Andrew Lee must have."
Mrs. Lee turned her face towards her husband. There was light it it,
and light in her eye. But there was something in the expression of the
countenance that puzzled him a little.
"Do you think so?" she asked quite soberly.
"What a question!" ejaculated Andrew Lee, starting up and going around
to the side of the table where his wife was sitting.--"What a
question, Mary!" he repeated, as he stood before her.
"Do you?" It was all she said.
"Yes, darling," was the warmly-spoken answer, and he stooped down and
kissed her.--"How strange that you should ask me such a question!"
"If you would only tell me so now and then, Andrew, it would do me
good." And Mrs. Lee arose, and leaning against the manly breast of her
husband, stood and wept.
Pages:
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335