“Nothing—only I’m so happy, dear.” She laughed hysterically as she clung to him. “Because you’re you—and I’m me—and our babies are ours—and this——”
“Whatever in the wide world—” Hugh was emphatically nonplused.
His wife giggled at his perplexity.
“Goose!” she chided playfully. “Can’t I have a few dramatics for myself, and ease up some of my emotions.” But as she saw his concerned expression as he looked at her so closely, she added: “Well, if you must know, here’s the answer. You know how I love to read a book and always put you in the hero’s place and make myself the heroine——”
“Yes, I know all about that, you little romancer,” he laughed, and he pinched her flushed cheek. “According to the different people you’ve been, you must be hundreds of years old!”
“You can make fun of me—I don’t care,” she pouted. “Well, after you left, Mrs. Birmingham sent me some books to read for her. And I’ve been reading this one!” She picked it up, only to drop it as though it burned her. “It’s all about a young couple like us,” she informed, “and they had two babies, a boy and a girl, and so I put Howard and Elinor in their places. I had just finished the story when you came in.”
“Well, it certainly must have been exciting, judging from the way I found you when I came in.”
“It was—terrible—dear!” She shuddered. “The man became very wealthy through an inheritance, but I pretended it was through an invention—Darling, what about you—I forgot to ask you?”
“Finish telling me your story first, and then I’ll tell you,” he answered quietly.
“There isn’t anything more to tell. Only the most dreadful things happened to them all. You can’t imagine how happy I was when I realized I had only been reading a book,” she sighed, “and now, dear, how about you? Were you successful?”