"I am sorry, Paul. But if I sit here it will be lovely; if I walk, I am afraid I shall be too tired." "I'll stay here, then; I am not at all keen about a tramp." "No, please go. And take Eve." "Uncly Paul, not _old_ Eve. I want old Eve," announced Jack, reasonably. "You don't seem to mind his calling you that," said Paul, laughing. "Why should I?" Eve answered. "I don't care for a walk, thanks." "Make her go," continued Cicely; "march her off." "Will you march?" asked Paul. "Not without a drum and fife." Jack was now cooing without cessation, and in his most insinuating tones, "Sing to Jacky--poor, _poor_ Jacky. Sing to Jacky--poor, _poor_ Jacky!" She took him in her arms and walked down the beach with him, going on with her song in a low tone: _"'He knocks at the door and he pulls up the pin,_ _And he says, "Mrs. Wingfield, is Polly within?"_ _"Oh, Polly's up-stairs a-sewing her silk."_ _Down comes Miss Polly as white as milk.'"_ "Eve never does what you ask, Paul," remarked Cicely. "Do I ask so often?" "I wish you would ask her oftener." "To be refused oftener?" "To gain your point--to conquer her. She is too self-willed--for a woman." She looked at Paul with a smile. The tie between them had become very close, and it was really her dislike to see him rebuffed, even in the smallest thing, that made her say, alluding to Eve, "Conquer her; she is too self-willed--for a woman." Paul smiled. "I shall never conquer her." "Try, begin now; make her think that you _want_ her to walk with you." "But I don't." "Can't you pretend?" "Why should I?" "Well, to please me." "You're an immoral little woman," said Paul, laughing. "I'll go; remember, however, that you sent me." He went up the beach to meet Eve, who was still walking to and fro, singing to Jack, Hollis accompanying them after his fashion; that is, following behind, and stopping to skip a stone carelessly when they stopped. Paul went straight to Eve. "I wish you would go with me for a walk," he said. He looked at her, his glance, holding hers, slowly became entreating. The silence between them lasted an appreciable instant. "I will go," said Eve. Jack seemed to understand that his supremacy was in danger. "No, old Eve--no. I want old Eve, Uncly Paul," he said, in his most persuasive voice. Then, to make himself irresistible, he began singing Eve's song: _"'Who pums idder, all booted an' spurred?_ _Little Jacky Bruce wiz his han' on his sword.'"_ Hollis came up. "Were you wanting to go off somewhere? I'll take Jack." "Old man, _you_ get out," suggested Jack, calmly. "Oh, where does he learn such things?" said Eve. She thought she was distressed--she meant to be; but there was an undertide of joyousness, which Hollis saw.