Zoie had barely time to arrange herself after the manner of an

interesting invalid, when Alfred entered the room in the gayest of

spirits.

"Hello, dearie," he cried as he crossed quickly to her side.

"Already?" asked Zoie faintly and she glanced uneasily toward the door,

through which Jimmy and Aggie had just disappeared.

"I told you I shouldn't be long," said Alfred jovially, and he implanted

a condescending kiss on her forehead. "How is the little mother, eh?" he

asked, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction.

"You're all cold," pouted Zoie, edging away, "and you've been drinking."

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"I had to have one or two with the boys," said Alfred, throwing out his

chest and strutting about the room, "but never again. From now on I cut

out all drinks and cigars. This is where I begin to live my life for our

sons."

"How about your life for me?" asked Zoie, as she began to see long years

of boredom stretching before her.

"You and our boys are one and the same, dear," answered Alfred, coming

back to her side.

"You mean you couldn't go on loving ME if it weren't for the BOYS?"

asked Zoie, with anxiety. She was beginning to realise how completely

her hold upon him depended upon her hideous deception.

"Of course I could, Zoie," answered Alfred, flattered by what he

considered her desire for his complete devotion, "but----"

"But not so MUCH," pouted Zoie.

"Well, of course, dear," admitted Alfred evasively, as he sank down upon

the edge of the bed by her side-"You needn't say another word," interrupted Zoie, and then with a shade

of genuine repentance, she declared shame-facedly that she hadn't been

"much of a wife" to Alfred.

"Nonsense!" contradicted the proud young father, "you've given me the

ONE thing that I wanted most in the world."

"But you see, dear," said Zoie, as she wound her little white arms about

his neck, and looked up into his face adoringly, "YOU'VE been the 'ONE'

thing that I wanted 'MOST' and I never realised until to-night how--how

crazy you are about things."

"What things?" asked Alfred, a bit puzzled.

"Well," said Zoie, letting her eyes fall before his and picking at a bit

of imaginary lint on the coverlet, "babies and things."

"Oh," said Alfred, and he was about to proceed when she again

interrupted him.




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