But no words would come. He could not force his utterance. The power of
speech was gone from him. He turned his face away from her in choking
tears.
And Sybil knew that the victory was hers. Those tears were more to her
than words. She knew that he would live--if he could--for her sake.
XIX
It was more than six weeks later that Brett Mercer and his wife turned
in at the Home Farm, as they had turned in on that memorable night that
he had brought his bride from Wallarroo.
Now, as then, Curtis was ready for them in the open doorway, and
Beelzebub advanced grinning to take the horses. But there the
resemblance ceased. The woman who entered with her husband leaning on
her shoulder was no nervous, shrinking stranger, but a wife entering her
home with gladness, bearing her burden with rejoicing. The woman from
Wallarroo looked at her with a doubtful sort of sympathy. She also
looked at the gaunt, bowed man who accompanied her, and questioned with
herself if this were indeed Brett Mercer.
Brett Mercer it undoubtedly was, nor could she have said, save for his
slow, stooping gait, wherein lay the change that so amazed her.
Perhaps it was more apparent in Sybil than in the man himself as she
raised her face on entering, and murmured:
"So good to get home again, isn't it, dear?"
He did not speak in answer.
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