"Alive or dead?"
"Carly! What made you say that?"
"I don't know." The girl shuddered and her eyes stared into Peter's. "I seemed to say it without any volition,—the words just came——"
"Well, don't let them come again. I don't like it a little bit. I'm coming home alive, very much alive,—and I'm coming home to claim you,—remember that."
"Unless either of us falls in love with some one else. Those girls of the far North are beautiful, I hear."
"An Eskimo with a nose ring? No, thank you! My heart is true to Poll! But don't you go and set your somewhat fickle heart on another man, 'cause if you do, I shall have to kill him, much as I'd regret such a necessity."
"My heart isn't fickle! What do you mean?"
"Just what I say. I think it is. I think my little black-eyed, rosy-cheeked Carly is quite capable of being on with a new love whether she's off with the old or not."
"Oh, Peter," and the black eyes showed moisture, "how cruel you are!"
"Isn't it so, Carly? Tell me it isn't,—I'll be so glad!"