Lightnin'

"What is it?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her anger as she came slowly back down the stairs. Bill showed her his prize in its nest of bright purple velvet. "He got it for you. He sent me out to buy it while he was in court!"

Mildred looked at the thing, and with one long "Oh!" of disgust she turned and went through the door into the dining-room.

Alone once more, Bill walked slowly, going to the desk and looking at the register. Then he went back of the desk, examining familiar objects. Suddenly his eyes rested on the electric-light switchboard. He played with the lights for several seconds, turning them out finally. With a start he grunted, "Now I broke 'em." Pushing the button again, the lights came on, revealing Mrs. Jones, who had tiptoed in from the dining-room when Millie told her Bill was there. When he saw her he came out from behind the desk and she hurried toward him with outstretched arms.

"Are you all right, Bill?" she asked, tenderly. And Bill, smiling, leaned over her and breathed so that she could see that he was all right. But she had been through so much lately and where Bill was concerned there was more tenderness than humor in her attitude.

"Aren't you all tired out, dear?" she asked.

Bill grinned sheepishly. It was a long time since his wife had shown such affection for him. "No," was his quick reply.

But her conscience bade her make sure that he was comfortable. She drew a big arm-chair from the corner and placed it in the center of the room, taking a pillow from the sofa and putting it on the back of the chair. Gently she sat Bill down in it.

He didn't know what to make of it all and he looked up at her, asking, with a chuckle:

"What's the matter, mother, you sick?"

She laughed. "No, Bill, I ain't sick. I'm just thinkin'."

Bill looked straight ahead of him.

She took her rocking-chair and placed it next to him. Clasping one of his hands, she leaned forward.

"You've forgiven me, 'ain't you, Bill?"

"Yep," chirped Bill, without so much as a glance.

Her attempt to make love to Bill was not meeting with the success she had hoped, but she was bound to make up to him for all the sorrow of the last few months, and so she did not notice his apparent indifference.

"Just think," she exclaimed, enthusiastically, "the place is ours again!"

"You mean it's yours again," said Bill, slowly.

"No," She shook her head emphatically. "Ours, after this, Bill."

"All right," Bill replied, again not moving.

Mrs. Jones, seeing that her attempts to be affectionate were falling upon unfertile ground, dropped his hand.

"How did Mr. Marvin manage to get it away from them?" she asked.

For the first time Bill took interest.

"I fixed it," he said, sitting up straight in his chair. "Do you want me to tell you how much money you get out of the waterfall?"

"Yes, Bill. But please say we get it."

"You mean I get half of it?"

Mrs. Jones nodded.

"And you're going to keep it for me?" he went on.

She smiled at him and nodded again.

"How did you know about my getting the place back?" he asked.

"Lem Townsend told me," she informed him. "Did you know that he and Mrs. Davis were married to-day?"

Bill didn't know it, but he didn't intend that his wife should know this. Playing up to form, he smiled indulgently upon her as he stated, glibly, "Yes, I fixed it!"

They smiled wisely upon each other and Mrs. Jones once again took her husband's hand.

"We won't have any more divorce people here, will we, Bill?"

"Then you will have to close up," was his answer.

"I want to close up, Bill." Her voice was full of deep tenderness. "I want to have a home again."

"All right," Bill said, getting up from the chair. Display of affection always embarrassed him. His attitude amused and at the same time hurt Mrs. Jones, so she changed her subject to one that she felt might interest him.

"We are all going to have some supper soon, Bill. I have been cooking it," she said.

Bill patted her tenderly on the hand. "Mother, I found out one thing when I was at the Home. I found that you were a good cook."

She smiled happily, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. Bill looked at her a moment in surprise; then he laughed.

A shadow crossed her face and she gazed into his eyes. "You don't mind my doing that, do you, Bill?" she asked.

There was a pause for a moment. Bill shifted awkwardly from side to side as he stood up.

"No, I guess I don't," he said.

Mrs. Jones walked toward the dining-room, pausing half-way across the room.

"Bill," she said, glancing down at the floor, "would you kiss me?"

Bill gaped at her in surprise.

"Yes," he said, slowly walking to her. Mrs. Jones saw his hesitation, and, realizing the humor of the situation, laughed heartily.

"Oh, never mind, Bill! You can kiss me later."

"Now, mother, I was going to." He grinned and followed her to the door, but she was through it before he could reach her. He stood still and was about to reopen the door when Marvin burst in, out of breath, but a new radiance in his eyes.

"Why, John," Bill remarked, "I thought you were going over to the cabin!"

"Well, I was," said Marvin. "But I heard about Lem and Mrs. Davis being married, and I knew that everybody would be over there having a good time. I didn't mean to be out of it. Where's your wife?"