As soon as they were settled in some distant city and were secure from the elder's wrath, he'd write Madelene. He chuckled grimly to himself at the thought of their rage when they learned of her anomalous position as his unmarried wife.

Then, his fancy played about the home he'd have. He pictured Tess moving through the rooms in the intimacies of domestic life. Almost, so vivid the picture his passion painted, he held her in his arms. He'd do wonderful things for the boy. He should have the best education possible! Lost in his dreams, the time slipped rapidly away, and he found himself, all at once, in front of his brother-in-law's brilliantly lighted home.

When he came into the great hall, Madelene hurried out of the library to meet him. She presented a cool cheek for the customary kiss of greeting and helped him out of his extra wraps.

"Take off your coat, dear, and come into the library," she urged. "The man told you about Elsie? But Eb's sure to find her. I'll see about something to eat while you're getting thawed out."

She bustled off to the kitchen and her husband went into the library and dropped into a chair before the grate.

When Madelene came back, she stopped by the table impressed, suddenly, by the pathetic weariness of his appearance. The change in him startled her and reawakened all the love she'd ever felt for him. In addition, there was, in her affection for the sick man, an element of maternal devotion, as though the unsatisfied desires of her empty arms demanded him. She crossed the room and seated herself on the arm of his chair.

"Fred, dear," she said, "you must have had an awful trip. Now, that I have you home again, I'm going to look after you, myself."

One after another, she noted the symptoms of decay and dissolution presented. His clothes no longer fitted but hung, bag-like, upon his emaciated frame. His shoulders were stooped and his chest sunken. The high linen collar he'd always been so particular about, no longer set close to a shapely neck, but sagged away from the taut cords below his bony jaw and chin. She lifted one of his hands and stared, through the tears that welled into her eyes, at the claw-like fingers resting in hers. Her husband's pitiful plight completely softened her heart and wiped away the memory of her jealousy and dissatisfaction with him. He needed her, now, and everything that love could do for him, she'd give him.

Lifting his fingers to her lips, they sat, thus, in silence, before the log fire until Frederick withdrew his hand and let it fall into his lap. Madelene shifted her position a little and slipped one arm around his neck. Although somewhat amazed at the demonstration, Frederick submitted to the caresses and found in them something of peace.




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