I laughed, seeing Eva at her writing-table in transparent shafts of golden sunshine. I knew how she arranged her background; always, her study was the same. A glow of copper--the light streaming through chintz figured with bright birds and roses which were rust-coloured and big as cabbages, and falling on bowls of overblown tea roses revealing their copper hearts. Against the roses with their deep hearts and their imminent surcease, Eva’s head was that of a painted saint wearing a halo of beaten gold leaf. I said in her defense: “She hadn’t time to stop and think what was good for him.” But disapproval so permeated the drawing-room that I hastened to add a lame second thought: “Eva is a very hard worker, and sometimes she seems much more heedless than in her heart she is.” I was not sure whether Miss Augusta’s resultant sniff was one of approval of my defense of my friend or disapproval of my evident inability to see her grounds for a virtuous indignation. She said shortly: “Poor Nicholas will shoot up weedy and pale like a potato sprouting in a cellar.” Miss Lois’ giggle relieved a suspense that I felt to be fairly exuding from Mr. Tappan Tillinghast. “I don’t think he would like to be called a potato in a cellar, Gussie; he’s such a good looking man. Besides, when they were showing us the house he really did impress me as being awfully proud of it. And I did hear her say to you that it was lucky that when she wrote she wanted sunshine, and when he worked at home he needed a north light for his drawing-table.” “She didn’t explain a like apportioning of the bedrooms,” brooded Miss Augusta. Mr. Tillinghast ventured that he fancied Nicholas admired his wife so much that he was contented. “Remember when he said ‘Suppose we go back to Eva’s study? She looks so sweet at her writing-table--like a little girl playing’?” Miss Lois gurgled: “Eva does know how to manage men! And I do think----” Her pause was caused by her stifling giggle. “Well?” demanded Miss Augusta. “What were you going to say, Sister Lois?” Miss Lois almost swooned, so spasmodic was her giggling fit. “I meant, Eva does know how to pull the wool over gentlemen’s eyes!” Properly, Miss Augusta passed this over in silence. When she inflated her lungs it was for a further exposition of her own argument. “She leaves Nicholas in those dreadful northern rooms during the warm weather when the only breath of air comes through the southern windows. It’s useless for him to assert--he is so chivalrous, being Lavinia’s son--that he prefers the north light for his work. He works at his office. And if the house is so good to work in, why--will you tell me--does she take herself off to some cool spot every summer?” I refused to commit myself beyond the remark that I saw nothing I could do about it. This brought from Miss Augusta the innuendo that I did not yet know the half of it. There were, for instance, unnecessary and solitary trips to Europe----