"Why don't you choose the best, the happiest?"
The thought brought a little stab from conscience. Perhaps she was not sympathetic enough—perhaps she ought to show more interest in her husband's business, and that made him unlike himself.
It was a new thought that brought a doubt of herself. She was accustomed to receive affection and to give it only in return. But now circumstances determined differently.
They urged her to take the initiative. This was not easy for her to do, but she longed for the old easy way of loving and spoiling. Perhaps this vague longing and unrest prompted her to surprise her husband to-night, with an extra show of patience and affection. Doubtless he would come home in one of his unattractive moods.
A big sigh of relief accompanied her resolve, and she murmured gently,
"Will is a good old boy anyway, and has always done everything I wished." That summed up her ideal of a perfect husband. So she concluded to spoil him a little in return.
The door opened and Will Lambert entered. Alma started from her nest of cushions.
"Why, Will, how pale you are!" she said kindly, holding out both hands as he came towards her.
He took them both and put them to his lips. Then he kissed the cherry mouth, raised sweetly to his.
"Fatigue and hunger, darling," he said in a weary voice.