"I'm awfully sorry, Fred," she whispered, after the lapse of a few moments. "Let's begin again and do better. I do love you, so. Put your arms around me and tell me you'll forgive and forget."
Convinced that it was easier to humor his wife's soft mood than to risk the strain of repulsing her, Frederick slipped his arms around her and held her close.
"There's nothing to forgive, Madie," he muttered. "I've been awful selfish and I'm paying the penalty, that's all. You better let me go and forget me."
Supposing he referred to his approaching death, Madelene cried out sharply, in protest.
"No, no, Fred, you mustn't say such things. You make me feel like a murderess."
She wound her arms tightly around him and kissed him stormily.
"I love you and you love me," she continued. "That's all there is to it. We'll be happy, yet!"
For a few moments, she rested in his embrace, happier than she'd been in many a long day. Then, she disengaged herself and stood up.
"Come, dear," she smiled, "your supper is ready."
After he was seated at the table, she told him of the quarrel between her brother and his wife, of the loss of Elsie and the search then going on.