"My poor Weston," Alison said gently. "But I am not afraid of that. Mr.
Harry won't be dazzled."
"You dazzled him."
"Oh, and am I full of wickedness too?" Alison laughed. "Dear, forgive me."
"No, but you are strong and hard as his father was."
Alison drew in her breath. "I shall teach you not to call me that,
Weston," she said. "And Harry—well, Harry shall find me for him."
There was silence for a while, and Alison watched with new emotions the tired, wistful face. "Weston, dear, I want you to come back to me. I want Mr. Harry to find you with me when he comes home."
Mrs. Weston cried out, "He does not know who I am!" in anxious fear, and clutched at Alison's hand.
"No, indeed. But he loves you already, I think."
"But I do not want him to know," Mrs. Weston cried. "I—I was not married to Colonel Boyce."
"Weston, dear," Alison pressed the hand.