"Oh, what a contrast, Howard!" I said, as we stood together at the window that evening.
"A contrast to what?" he asked.
"A contrast to the wretched lodging I have been in to-day. I always felt that mine was the happiest home in the world, but I feel it more than ever to-night."
"Are you really happy, little wife?" he asked.
"Happy! Oh, Howard," I answered, "what a question! You know, surely, you know how very happy I am!"
"You are not more happy than I am, May," he said; "I little thought when I met you first on the roof, at Brindisi, what bright days were in store for me!"
"Oh, Howard," I said, after a pause, "just think if that wretched lodging that I saw to-day had been my home! And it might have been!"
He knew what I meant, for I had told him of Claude's letter.
"Yes," he said, "it might have been, if you had not resisted the temptation put before you that day, and gained a victory over yourself. But you are not sorry now, May, that you decided as you did; you think you were right, do you?"
"Right! Oh, Howard," I said, "I feel as if I could never be thankful enough that I chose as I did; God has been very good to me!"