ed that the Doctor should
examine his pulse.

"You ought never to have taken such a walk on such a hot day, Mr.
Herrick. The idea! Why, you might have died! Why don't you scold him,
Eve?"

Eve's eyebrows went up.

"Why should I scold him, Carrie? Mr. Herrick knew that I liked lemon in
my tea and, being a very gallant gentleman, he obtained lemon. You all
know that I am quite heartless where my wants are concerned."

"Well, I think it was extremely wrong, Mr. Herrick, and I shan't touch
another slice of lemon."

"Which," laughed Eve, "considering that you already have four pieces
floating about in your cup, is truly heroic!"

After the ladies had gone the Doctor lingered, and presently, in some
strange way, he found himself in the dining-room with the doors
carefully closed, saying "Ha! H'm!" and wiping his lips gratefully. He
made Wade promise to come and see him, quoted a couplet anent
hospitality--neglecting to give the author's name--and took his
departure. After supper Wade lighted his pipe and started in the
direction of the Doctor's house, but he never got there that evening.
For an hour or more he wandered along the quiet, almost deserted street,
and smoked and thought and watched the effect of the moonlight amidst
the high branches of the elms, finally finding himself back at his own
gate, tapping his pipe against the post and watching the red sparks
drop.

"It isn't going to be very hard, after all," he murmured.

XI.

June mellowed into July and July moved by in a procession of hot,
languorous days and still, warm nights. Sometimes it rained, and then
the leaves and flowers, adroop under the sun's ardor, quivered and
swayed with delight and scented the moist air with the sweet, faint
fragrance of their gratitude. Often the showers came at night, and Wade,
lying in bed with doors and windows open, could hear it pattering upon
the leaves and drumming musically upon the shingles. And he fancied,
too, that he could hear the thankful earth drinking it in with its
millions of little thirsty mouths. After such a night he awoke to find
the room filled with dewy, perfumed freshness and radiant with sunshine,
while out of doors amidst the sparkling leaves the birds trilled paeans
to the kindly heavens.

By the middle of July Wade had settled down comfortably into the quiet
life of Eden Village. Quiet it was, but far from hum-drum. On the
still, mirrored surface of a pool even the dip of an insect's