rton explained to
him severely, as if it were his fault, just why and to what extent the
radii of mountain moonlight differed from the radii of any other kind
of moonlight, and Eve herself, in absolute spiritual remoteness,
stood patiently shifting her weight from one foot to the other,
staring abstractedly all the time at the floor under her feet.

Right into the midst of this instructive discourse broke one of
Barton's men friends with a sharp jog of his elbow, and a brief,
apologetic nod to the Edgartons.

"Oh, I say, Barton!" cried the newcomer, breathlessly. "That wedding,
you know, over across at the Kentons' to-night, with the Viennese
orchestra--and Heaven knows what from New York? Well, we've shanghaied
the whole business for a dance here to-morrow night! Music! Flowers!
Palms! Catering! Everything! It's going to be the biggest little
dancing party that this slice of North American scenery ever saw!
And--"

Slowly little Eve Edgarton lifted her great solemn eyes to the
newcomer's face.

"A party?" she drawled. "A--a--dancing party--you mean? A
real--Christian--dancing party?"

Dully the big eyes drooped again, and as if in mere casual mannerism
her little brown hands went creeping up to the white breast of her
gown. Then just as startling, just-as unprovable as the flash of a
shooting star, her glance flashed up at Barton.

"O--h!" gasped little Eve Edgarton.

"O--h!" said Barton.

Astoundingly in his ears bells seemed suddenly to be ringing. His head
was awhirl, his pulses fairly pounding with the weird, quixotic
purport of his impulse.

"Miss Edgarton," he began. "Miss--"

Then right behind him two older men joggled him awkwardly in passing.

"--and that Miss Von Eaton," chuckled one man to another. "Lordy!
There'll be more than forty men after her for to-morrow night! Smith!
Arnold! Hudson! Hazeltine! Who are you betting will get her?"

"I'M BETTING THAT I WILL!" crashed every brutally
competitive male instinct in Barton's body. Impetuously he broke
away from the Edgartons and darted off to find Miss Von Eaton before
"Smith--Arnold--Hudson--Hazeltine"--or any other man should find
her!

So he sent little Eve Edgarton a great, gorgeous box of candy instead,
wonderful candy, pounds and pounds of it, fine, fluted chocolates, and
rose-pink bonbons, and fat, sugared violets, and all sorts of
tin-foiled mysteries of fruit and spice.

And when the night of the party came he strutted triumphantly