"And the wife see that she reverence her husband."
Could she do that? For suppose—
Cherry could not put the thought in actual black and white, even to herself, but none the less she heard it speak. He had been tempted once—what if it happened again, or again?
And now the girl lifted her head and looked at him, as if to spell out the answer; never guessing how she looked. Wistful, questioning, eager; a look so pathetic in its love and sorrow that Magnus had all he could do to sit still and bear it. But then Cherry turned away again, and dropping her face in her hands cried and sobbed as if she had never cried before.
"That means, you give me up," Magnus said, struggling with himself. "You have no use for me any more; and I may go to Jericho or the moon, as I like best. Well, it is natural, I suppose. What could you want with anyone who had even once given way? I shall never blame you, Cherry. But, stop crying, dear heart! It's hard lines for a man to be killed two ways at once. Cherry—stop! Do you hear?"
With a great effort the girl controlled herself, and looked up, pushing the tears to right and left; drawing one of those long clearing-wind breaths of which women seem to have the prerogative. A breath at once of loss and of courage, coming from the depths of pain, but telling of courage and hope; that sort of sigh which has many a time been followed by a shout of victory.
Magnus had been watching her eagerly, but as she looked up, his eyes turned away, and Cherry again studied him. What a boy he was still, after all: the young head with its short, curling hair, already showing that West Point barbers were far away; the smooth cheek giving faint tokens of what soon would be. The very hands looked so young. They were not clasped nor folded, but lay absolutely still, with that air of intense waiting which the whole figure wore. Cherry gazed at them, one and another scene of her young life wherein those hands had played a part coming up before her. Played it so well and so kindly that she had every line of them by heart; sledding, strawberrying, nutting, riding; the broken toys they had mended, the strong help they had been in many a rough place. Always gentle and patient for her, always ready to do her bidding; the tenderest hands when she was hurt, the most untirable for her need.
Cherry almost cried out aloud, for the sudden stricture of heart, but she kept herself in hand, and now her look went up to the face again, and she found that Magnus was watching her, with the intensest, hungry, longing eagerness. He did not stir, but sat still in that attitude of waiting.
"Magnus—"
"What?"