the office, with its dusty corners and shelves and
hideous safe, had vanished, leaving the charming
and thoughtful face revealed against an even,
spacious brownness. Only Ariel and the roses and
the lamp were clear; and a strange, small pain
moved from Joe's heart to his throat, as he thought
that this ugly office, always before so harsh and
grim and lonely--loneliest for him when it had
been most crowded,--was now transfigured into
something very, very different from an office; that
this place where he sat, with a lamp and flowers
on a desk between him and a woman who called
him "my dear," must be like--like something that
people called "home."

And then he leaned across the desk toward her,
as he said again what he had said a little while
before,--and his voice trembled:

"Ariel, it IS you?"

She looked at him and smiled.

"You'll be here always, won't you? You're not
going away from Canaan again?"

For a moment it seemed that she had not heard
him. Then her bright glance at him wavered and
fell. She rose, turning slightly away from him,
but not so far that he could not see the sudden