She spent hours opening boxes and putting dainty, pretty garments in the drawers, hanging the dresses, and placing the toilet articles.

Often she wearily dropped to the chairs and couches, or gazed from door and windows at the pictures they framed.

"I wonder why he doesn't want me to go outside," she thought.

"I wouldn't be afraid in the least, with Bel.
I'd just love to go across to that wonderful little river of Singing Water and sit in the shade; but I won't open the door until four o'clock, just as he wrote." When she thought of where he had gone, and why, the swift tears filled her eyes, but she forced them back and resolutely went to investigate the dining-room.

Then for two hours she was a home builder, with a touch of that homing instinct found in the heart of every good woman.