by our
manner when meeting him on the street that we would be pleased to make
his acquaintance?"

"Why, Caroline Mullett!" gasped Eve, in mock astonishment. "What kind of
behavior is that for two respectable maiden ladies?"

"My dear, I'm an old maid, I know, but you're not. And if you think for
a moment that I'm going to sit here and twiddle my thumbs while there's
a nice-looking bachelor in the next house, you're very much mistaken.
Dear knows, Eve, I love Eden Village from end to end, but I never heard
of an Eden yet that wasn't better for having a man in it!"

"You're right," sighed Eve. "Do you realize, Carrie, that the only
eligible man we know here is Doctor Crimmins? And he's old enough to be
father to both of us."

"The Doctor plays a very good hand of cribbage," replied Miss Mullett,
approvingly. And then triumphantly: "I have it, dear!"

"What?"

"The Doctor shall call on Mr. Herrick and bring him to see us!"

"Splendid!" laughed Eve. "And he will never know that we schemed and
intrigued to get him. Carrie, I don't see how, with your ability, you
ever missed marriage."

"I never have missed it," replied Miss Mullett, with a sniff. She took
up her hat and started toward the hall. At the door she turned and
seemed about to speak, but evidently thought better of it and
disappeared. Eve smiled. And then Miss Mullett's plain, sweet little
face peered around the corner of the door, and--

"Much," she whispered.

VII.

When Wade came to himself he discovered that he was standing with folded
arms staring blankly at the Declaration of Independence which, framed in
walnut and gilt, adorned the wall of the sitting-room. How long he had
been standing there he didn't know. He swung around in sudden uneasiness
and examined the room carefully. Then he gave a deep sigh of relief. It
was all right this time; this was his own house! He sank into the green
rocker and mechanically began to fill his pipe. From the floor above
came the swish of the broom and Zephania's voice raised in joyful song:

"'I was a wand'ring sheep, I did not love the fold;
I did not love my Shepherd's voice, I would not be controlled.
I was a wayward child, I did not love my home;
I did not love my Father's voice, I loved afar to roam.'"

Wade lighted his pipe, and when he had filled the adjacent atmosphere
with blue smoke he groaned. After that he gazed for a long time at his
hands, turning them this way and that as thou