Time passed.
Somewhere about the house a canary twittered softly. Evelyn Walton,
arrested on the sitting room threshold, a fold of the light portière
clasped in one hand, gazed at the intruder. Wade, frozen to immobility
just inside the door, one hand still grasping the knob, gazed at the
girl. His mind was a blank. His lips moved mechanically, but no words
issued from them. It seemed to him that whole minutes had passed,
although in reality the old-fashioned clock at the end of the hall had
ticked not more than thrice. He felt the color surging into his face,
and at last sheer desperation loosened his tongue.
"Is there anything I can do--" he began.
But at the very same moment Evelyn Walton's power of speech returned
likewise, and--
"You wished to see--some one?" she inquired.
As they spoke absolutely together neither heard the other's question
and each silently awaited an answer.
"_Tick ... tock_" said the old clock, sleepily.
Wade's gaze wandered. He wondered whether it would be unforgivable to
dash quickly out and slam the door behind him. But in the next breath
escape was forgotten and he was looking about him in sheer amazement.
Here was his hallway, but no longer empty. A shield-backed chair stood
beside the parlor door. A settle ran along the wall beyond. A
pink-cheeked moon leered at him from the top of a tall clock.
Bewilderedly he looked toward the sitting-room. There, too, everything
was changed. The floor was painted gray. Rugs took the place of carpet.
Gauzy lace curtains hung at the windows. A canary in a gilt cage sung
above an open window. Oh, plainly he was bewitched or the world was
topsy-turvy! The look he turned on the girl was so helpless, so
entreating that her face, which had begun to set coldly, softened
instantly. The hand clasping the curtain fold fell to her side and she
took a step toward him.
"Can I help you?" she asked, kindly.
Wade passed a hand over his eyes.
"I don't know," he murmured. "Will you please tell me where I am?"
"You're in my house. I am Miss Walton."
"Your house? Then--then where is mine, please?" he asked, helplessly.
"Just beyond here; the next one."
"Oh!" he said. He sought for words with which to explain the situation,
but found none. He backed out, tripped slightly over the sill and found
himself on the top step. He dared one more look into the girl's amused
and sympathetic face and then turned and fled precipitately. At the gate
he brushed against some one, muttered an apology, and plunged through.
Evelyn Walton, following his course of flight from the doorway, laughed
softly. Miss Caroline Mullett, standing on tiptoe in the middle of the
path, strove to see over the hedge, and, failing, turned to the girl
with breathless curiosity.
[Illustration: "YOUR HOUSE? THEN--THEN WHERE IS MINE, PLEASE?"]
"Why, Eve, who was that?"
"He didn't leave his card, dear," replied Eve, with a gurgle of
suppressed laughter, "but there is every reason to believe that his name
is Herrick."
"The gentleman who has taken the next house? And what did he want? He
seemed in such a hurry, and so very much excited! You don't think, do
you, that he is going to have a sunstroke? His face was extremely
congested."
"No, dear," replied Eve, as she followed Miss Mullett into the
sitting-room, "I don't think he's in danger of sunstroke. You're getting
to be quite as bad as Zephania on that subject. The fact is, dear, that
the ensanguined condition of Mr. Herrick's face was due to his having
mistaken our humble abode for his."
"My dear! How embarrassing!"
"So he seemed to think," laughed Evelyn.
"But I can quite understand it," continued Miss Mullett, laying aside
her hat and smoothing down her hair. Miss Mullett's hair was somewhat of
the shade of beech leaves in fall and was not as thick as it had once
been. She wore it parted in the middle and combed straight down over the
tips of her ears. Such severe framing emphasized the gentleness of her
face. "You know yourself, Eve dear, that the first summer we were here
we often found ourselves entering the wrong gate. The houses are as much
alike as two peas."
"I know. But, oh, Carrie, if you could have seen his expression when it
dawned on him that he was in the wrong house! It's too bad to laugh at
him, but I just have to."
"I hope you didn't laugh while he was here," said Miss Mullett,
anxiously.
"I'm afraid I did--just a little," replied Eve, contritely. "But I don't
think he saw it. He was too--too bewildered and horrified, and terribly
embarrassed. I really pitied him. I don't think I ought to pity him,
either, for he gave me quite a fright when he opened the front door and
walked in just as though he'd come to murder us all."
"Poor man!" sighed Miss Mullett. "He must be feeling awfully about it.
And--and didn't you think him exceedingly nice looking? So big and--and
manly!"
"Manly?" laughed Eve. "He looked to me more like a very small boy
discovered in the preserve closet!"
"Of course, but I'm afraid you were a little--oh, the least little bit
unfeeling, dear."
"Perhaps I was," owned Eve, thoughtfully. "I shouldn't want him to think
me--impolite."
"No indeed! Do you think he will call?"
"After this morning? My dear Carrie, did he look to you like a man
coming to call?"
"But in a day or two, perhaps? Don't you think that it is possibly our
duty to convey to him in some delicate manner that he--that we--that his
mistake was quite natural--"
"We might put a personal in the Tottingham _Courier_. 'If the gentleman
who inadvertently called at The Cedars on Tuesday morning will return,
no questions will be asked and all will be forgiven.' How would that
do?"
"I'm afraid he would never see the paper unless we lent him our copy,"
replied Miss Mullett, with a smile. "But surely we might convey 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.