“Yes, I remember,” she answered softly.  “I thought we had been held up by train-robbers and I went out to the back platform to see.  I didn’t say anything to papa, because it might have scared him, you know.”

“Of course,” said Wade, with a smile.

“And so I went out and saw the track stretching back down the hill, with the starlight gleaming on the rails, and—­”

“And the mountains in the west all purple against the sky.”

“Yes.  And there was a breeze blowing and it was chilly out there.  So I was going back into the car when a dreadful-looking man appeared, oh, a—­a fearsome-looking man, really!”

“Was he?” asked Wade, somewhat lamely.

“Oh, yes!  And I thought, of course, he was a robber or a highwayman or something.”

“And—­he wasn’t?” asked Wade, eagerly.

“No.”  She shook her head.  “No, he was something much worse.”

“Oh!  What?”

“He was a deceiver, a—­a Don Juan.  He made love to me and made me promise never to forget him, and he promised to come and get me some day.  That was five years ago.  Why didn’t you come?”

“Eve!  Then—­you knew?  You’ve known all along?”

She fell to laughing, swaying away from him in the moonlight.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, wonderingly.

“Why didn’t you ask me?  Yes, I knew from the moment I peeked in your window that day.”

“Think of that!  And I was sure you didn’t remember at all.  And now, after all that time, I’ve got you again, dear!  It’s wonderful!”

“Not so fast, please,” she said, sternly.  “You forgot me once—­”

“I never forgot you.”

“And you may do it again.”

“I didn’t forget you, dear.  I still have that lilac you threw me.  I—­”

“You mean the one I dropped?” she asked, innocently.

“It was a week later that we found gold, Eve, and I named the mine for you.  I worked hard that year, and—­well, I’ll be honest; I didn’t forget you; you were always a sort of vision of loveliness in my memory; but—­there was so much to do—­and—­”

“And you changed your mind.  I see.  And you never thought of poor me, waiting for you all these years!”

“I guess you forgot me quick enough,” said Wade, ruefully.  “When that other fellow came along, I mean.”

“Stupid!” she whispered.  “That was you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, the you I met out there on the mountain, the you that made love to me and set my silly little girl’s heart a-fluttering.  Don’t you think now it was wicked of you?  Why, Wade—­oh!”

“That’s my name,” he laughed.

“It’s a funny name, isn’t it?” she murmured, shyly.

“I suppose it is.”

“But I like it.  Oh, dear, I must go!  It must be midnight!”

“No, only twenty minutes of,” he answered, holding his watch to the light.  “Don’t go yet.  There’s so much I want to say!”