Free Not My Will and The Light in My Window by Francena H. Arnold Page A

Mondays, and it seems he can, so I’ll work out the rest of the rent firsthand.”
    “But what if …” Eleanor’s voice trailed off doubtfully.
    “Don’t tell me; let me say it. What if someone comes to see us and finds out our horrible secret? Who’s been coming to see you the past two years, my girl, with you working so hard? Nobody. And the same goes for me too. In the two years that I have roomed over Professor Merritt’s garage, no other person has set foot in my room. From now on, I’m going to take up even more of your time, so you’ll be an absolute social dud. So you just push all your little doubts into the back of your mind and forget them, and lean that pretty head closer on my shoulder and rest a little bit.”
    Eleanor sighed contentedly. “Just to be able to feel you again, and to know you’re real and not a dream, makes me forget I ever was tired. And this lovely apartment …”
    “’Fess up, now—aren’t you glad I did it?”
    “Well, of course, except that every time I think of the complications it may involve I get panicky.”
    “We’ll take care of the complications as fast as they come to call on us. Just now let’s talk about our rosy future. Do you know, every time I kissed Mary Lou this summer, I longed for the day when you and I will have our own houseful of youngsters. Would you mind half a dozen?”
    “Dear me, such a few!” Eleanor exclaimed in mock dismay. “I had thought we wanted a whole dozen, all taught to behave.”
    Chad continued musingly. “They will inherit thetendency to be beautiful from you and to be good from my mother.” Then suddenly he added, “This is a very abrupt change of subject, but what do you say we look at our house?”
    The apartment was tiny but attractive, and every corner was examined thoroughly. There was a large living room, simply and tastefully furnished, with windows that looked out into the branches of a huge oak. One side of the room opened into a dressing room and bath, and from the other side one entered a dinette and kitchen.
    “Why, it’s just like the doll’s house I used to have!” exclaimed Ellen joyously, as she stepped into the cheery red-and-white kitchenette.
    “Well, what do you know!” Chad exclaimed, opening the refrigerator door. “The people who lived here before us must have left us a few morsels of food.”
    Ellen came and peered over his shoulder and saw that he had been shopping and stocked everything necessary for their first dinner in their own home.
    “Wise man.” She laughed. “I also observe that you bought everything ready-cooked. Undoubtedly a reflection on my culinary abilities.”
    “Honest, I didn’t think of that! I just wanted to save time on this special evening. We ought to spend all our time looking at each other, don’t you think?”
    “Why, of course—and you couldn’t hurt my feelings if you did cast aspersions on my cooking ability. But I
will learn,
if only to show you what an excellent housewife you married.”
    “I married the only girl in the world for me, and that’s all that matters,” Chad said in a low voice.
    The meal was soon ready, and they sat down, not across the table from each other in proper style, but side by side, hand in hand. When they were seated Chad put his arm around his wife, bowed his head, and said softly, “We thank Thee, Father, for all Thy goodness to us, and especially that Thou hast brought us together again. We thank Thee for this home, and we ask that Thy blessing may rest on it and us. May we live and work here to Thy glory. Bless this food to our use and us to Thy service. Amen.”

E leanor was now happier than she had ever been in all her life. At eight every morning she and Chad arrived at school and went to their separate classes. At noon they ate lunch together in a corner of Professor Nichols’s laboratory, always empty except for them, and after lunch they studied for a half hour. In the afternoon Chad went to the chemistry laboratory