"I am tired, dear. Will you lead me to our room?"
He took her in his arms and carried her up, as he would have carried a child, and this new office of love, and indeed everything he did for her, drew them spiritually closer to each other.
When she was in bed she asked him to tell her about the fire, and if he would be a great loser by it. He softened the loss, said that he was well insured, that they had a good friend in Mr. Moss, and that it would not be long before he was on his feet again. Content and happiness were expressed on her face as she listened.
"It will be a comfort to you to know," he said, "that no one will lose anything by me; every demand will be met; every penny will be paid. In my mansion"--his study of the law and his devotion to his faith led him occasionally into a biblical phrase--"are three stars: First, the Eternal God; next, you, my beloved; next, our good name."
"That is safe in your keeping, dear," she said.
"And will ever be, so far as human endeavor can aid me. You will be glad to hear, too, that the townspeople sympathize with us in our trouble."
"I am very glad; it could hardly have been otherwise. Who that lives to know you does not learn to honor you?" She held his hand in a tender clasp and kissed it repeatedly. "I will tell you something. I am beginning already to acquire a new sense. When you look at me I feel it--you are looking at me now. When your eyes are not on my face I know it. I shall learn a good deal very soon, very soon! I do not intend to be a burden to you." This was said with tender gayety.
"You can never be that." He touched her eyes. "Henceforth I am your eyes. It is a poor return, for you, Rachel, are my very life."
"Dear husband! Dear love! Kiss me. I want to fall asleep with those words in my ears. You will not stop up long?"
"I will go down and put out the lights, and see that all is safe. Then I will come up at once. Sleep, my life, sleep!"