"Why shouldn't it be all right?"
Her sister was silent. It seemed absurd, when everything seemed to point to her happiness, that she should still feel depressed and nervous, but, somehow, she could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong. It was certainly strange that no letter had been received from Kenneth since the accident. Yet perhaps it was wicked of her to expect more. She ought to be grateful that he had been spared. Almost unconsciously she remarked:
"Isn't it strange that Ken hasn't written for so long? I haven't had a line from him since he left Cape Town."
"Yes—you have," protested her sister. "You had a cablegram telling you of his safety."
"A cablegram—yes, but no letter. I have had no letter since he left Cape Town."
"That's true. But how could he write? He has been traveling faster than the mails."
"I hope he's not hurt."
"Of course not. You would have heard it before this. Bad news travels fast."
Every moment from now on was devoted to getting the house ready for the arrival of its lord and master. Ray had skilfully fashioned out of red letters on white paper, a big "Welcome" sign, which was to be suspended in the hall on the complacent horns of two gigantic moose heads, souvenirs of a month's vacation in the Adirondacks. While this was being done downstairs Helen busied herself in the library and bedroom, getting ready the things for his comfort—his dressing-gown, his slippers, his pipe. She detested pipes, as do most women, but she could not refrain from giving this pipe a furtive kiss, as she laid it lovingly on the table within easy reach of the arm-chair. The maids, changed since he went away, were laboriously instructed in what they should and should not do, what towels should be put in the luxurious bathroom, what pajamas should be laid on the bed.
Well Helen remembered the first time she had entered this bedroom. Just married, in the full flush of her new-found happiness, it had all seemed so beautiful, so ideal. The dull pink color scheme, so chaste and delicate, the gracefully carved furniture, so luxurious and elegant, the cupids flying above the massive beautifully carved bed, a veritable bower of love—all this seemed only a realization of her girlhood dreams of what married life should be. And now Kenneth was coming back, after his long absence in South Africa, it would be like getting married all over again.