She could not speak in answer. The wonder of his love for her had stricken her dumb; it had swept upon her like a wave, towering, immense, resistless, bearing her far beyond her depth.
She could only mutely lift her quivering lips; and he, moved to gentleness by her action, took her face between his hands with infinite tenderness, gazing down into her eyes with that in his own which cast out the last of her fear.
"My little Chris!" he said. "My wife!"
PART II
CHAPTER I
SUMMER WEATHER
"I think quite the worst part of being married is having to pay calls," said Chris.
"You do not like it, no?" said Bertrand, with quick sympathy.
"No," she rejoined emphatically. "And I don't see any sense in it either.
No one ever wants afternoon callers."
"But that depends upon the caller, does it not?" he said.