Part 77 (1/1)

She prepared him a sandwich. At the sink her foot struck a small, square package bearing a jeweler's stamp. It might have dropped there from nerveless fingers or been wilfully hurled.

She picked it up wonderingly. It was neatly tied with blue cord.

”What's this?”

Her husband started.

”That? Oh, that's the little surprise I was tellin' you 'bout. I started to fix it fer to-morrow; but--but--” His voice died in his throat.

She opened it with trembling fingers.

”It's the silver bracelet!” she cried. ”It's the silver bracelet!”

The unshed tears sprang to her eyes.

”Oh, Charley dear, you ain't--you ain't--” The tears came like an avalanche down an incline and choked off her speech.

He folded her to him.

”No, dear; I ain't!” he soothed.

THE END