She studied the words for a long minute.  Then she smiled and closed the book again.  Oddly enough, both she and Wade had discovered each other’s secrets that evening.

When the men joined them the Doctor suggested whist.  Wade protested his stupidity, but was overruled and assigned to Miss Mullett as partner.

“If you played like John Hobb,” declared the Doctor, “you’d win with Miss Mullett for partner.”

Eve and Wade desired to know who John Hobb was, and the Doctor was forced to acknowledge him a quite mythical character, whose name in that part of the world stood proverbially for incompetence.  After that when any of the four made a mistake he or she was promptly dubbed John Hobb.  For once the unwritten law was unobserved, and it was long past ten when the party broke up, Eve and the Doctor having captured the best of a series of rubbers.  After they had gone Wade put out the downstair lights and returned to the side porch, where, with his pipe flaring fitfully in the moonlit darkness, he lived over in thought the entire evening and conjured up all sorts of pictures of Eve.  When he finally went to bed his last waking sensation was one of gratitude toward Miss Mullett for the words she had spoken in the garden.

The next morning Eve was out under the cedars when the Doctor came marching down the street, carrying his bag and swinging his cane, his lips moving a little with the thoughts that came to him.  Opposite Eve’s retreat he stood on tiptoes and smiled across the hedge, unseen.  She made a pretty picture there over her book, her brown hair holding golden-bronze glints where the sun kissed it, and her smooth cheek warmly pallid in the shade.

  “‘Old as I am, for ladies’ love unfit,
  The power of beauty I remember yet,’”

quoted the Doctor.  “Good morning, fair Eve of Eden.  And how do you find yourself to-day?  For my part I am haunted by a gentle, yet insistent, regret.”  The Doctor placed a hand over his heavy gold watch-chain.  “It is here.”

“Better there than here,” laughed Eve, touching her forehead.

The Doctor pretended affront.  “Do you mean to insinuate, young lady, that I drank too much of the wine last night?  Ha!  I deny it; emphatically I deny it.  Besides, one couldn’t drink too much of such wine as that!  To prove how steady my hand and brain are, I’ll come in a moment and talk with you.”

The Doctor entered through the gate and advanced toward Eve, who with anxious solicitude cautioned him against colliding with the trees or walking over the flower-beds.  Things had changed in the cedars’ shade, and now there were three rustic chairs and an ancient iron table there.  The Doctor sat himself straightly in one of the chairs and glared at Eve.

“Now what have you to say?” he demanded.

“That you conceal it beautifully,” she replied, earnestly.

“Madam, I have nothing to conceal.”