"Yes, Reese?" asked Dorothy quickly, as he paused. A smile touched his lips.
"Well, as for me, Dorothy—that's up to you. I've sort of figured on selling our little estate, coming back here, settling down and running the Deming concern, if your father wants to go into partnership with me. What do you say? I'm through with the big town and the whole game—through for good. I don't want to play with other people's money any more, Dorothy—just with my own, after this. And besides—"
"The things which are seen are temporal," said Dorothy, and a low laugh came from her throat. "Oh, Reese, you've made me so happy! And now we'll find the other things together—the things that are eternal—"
Armstrong felt her fingers reach out to him. He put down his face and kissed the soft palms, gently, and then knelt there silently for a long while. When at last he lifted his head and looked at her again, she was asleep, and a smile was on her lips. The hall door was opening, and he looked up to see Irvin coming across the room. Quietly he disengaged himself and went to the door. Irvin, after a brief examination, joined him in the hall, closed the door, then caught Armstrong's shoulder.
"Look here—what have you done to her?" he snapped out.
Armstrong smiled wearily and wiped his forehead. He was very pale.
"I don't know, Irvin. I think the only thing I did was to make her happy," he said simply. "How is she looking—"
"You're a better doctor than I am, for she's turned the corner this blessed minute," said Irvin emphatically—then suddenly struck Armstrong on the shoulder and gripped his hand. "Oh! By the piper, I clear forgot to tell you! I wouldn't let a soul know about it until I was sure which way Dorothy was goin'—go on into the next room across the hall—"
"What for?" demanded Armstrong, in astonishment at this outburst.
Irvin seized his arm and propelled him across the hall-way, abruptly giving vent to a low and whimsical cackle of laughter. He flung open the door.