He had heard her laugh before.  A low and melodious laugh she had, and he had often listened to it and joined in with it, and rejoiced at the ability she possessed to laugh where many women would cry.  But he had never heard her laugh as she was laughing now.  Her understanding of the situation which had only just struck him was complete.  She knew precisely how busy he had been in the weeks preceding the wedding, and how thankfully he had accepted her suggestion that she come to his home just as it was, and plan for herself what disposal she would make of the empty rooms in a house of which he had used only the wing.  Until he had seen that row of vehicles before the gate he had not comprehended the fact that almost the entire furnished portion of the house was the public property of his patients whenever they chose to come.  And they were there now!

The car stopped behind the house, close by the French window opening upon a small rear porch.  The window led to the large, low-ceiled room which was Burns’s own, leading in turn to his offices, and having only these two means of entrance.  Burns looked down at his wife, her expressive face rosy with her laughter.

“I’m glad you see it that way,” said he.  “That sense of humour is going to help you through a lot, tied up to R.P.  Burns, M.D.  Will you go into my room, by this window?  Or will you accept Cynthia’s hospitality in the dining-room?  Or—­maybe that’s the best plan—­will you just run over to Martha’s?  I remember she begged us to come there, and now I see why.  Want to stay there a couple of weeks, till we can get your living-rooms straightened out?”

She shook her head.  “I’ve come to your home, Red,” said she.  “I’m not going to be sent away!  Go in and see your patients, and don’t bother about me.  Cynthia and I will discover a place for me.”

His face very red with chagrin, Burns took her in.  The downpour of rain had covered all sounds of the car’s approach, so that neither the Macauleys on the one side, the Chesters on the other, nor the housekeeper herself, were aware of the arrival of the pair.

“For mercy’s sake, Doctor!” cried Cynthia, and hurried across the neat and pleasant kitchen to meet them.  “I wasn’t expecting you yet for an hour.  Mrs. Macauley and Mrs. Chester wasn’t either.  They was over here ten minutes ago, planning how to get rid o’ the folks in there that’s insisting on setting and waiting for you to come.”

“Never mind them, Cynthia,” said her new mistress, shaking hands.  “The Doctor will see them and I will stay with you.  I’ve so much to plan with you.  What a pleasant kitchen!  And how delicious something smells!  Cynthia, I believe I’m hungry!”

“Well, now, you just come and set right down in the dining-room and I’ll give you something,” cried the housekeeper, delighted.

“That’s right, Cynthia,” approved Burns, much relieved.  “Look after her till I’m free.”  And he vanished.