Cicely drew away, she struck Eve's hand down with all her force. Then she ran sobbing to the bed, where Jack, half dressed, had fallen asleep again, and threw herself down beside him. "Oh, Ferdie! Ferdie!" she sobbed, in a passion of grief. Eve did not move. After a while Cicely dried her eyes and rose; she woke Jack, and finished dressing him in silence; kneeling down, she began to put on his shoes. The child rolled his little wooden horse over her shoulder. Then he called: "Old Eve! old Eve! Pum here, an' det down; I want to roll de hortie on _you_, too." Eve obeyed; she took up the other little shoe. "Oh, well," said Cicely, her voice still choked with sobs, "we can't help it, Eve--as long as we've got him between us; he's a tie. We shall have to make the best of each other, I suppose." "May I go with you to Romney?" Eve asked, in a low tone. "How can you want to go _there_?" demanded Cicely, her eyes beginning to flash again. "I know.--But I don't want to leave Jack and you. If you would take me--" They said but a few words more. Yet it was all arranged; they would go to Romney; Paul was to know nothing of it. XXX. Cicely thought of everything, she ordered everything; she and Eve had changed places. It was decided that they should take a North Shore steamer; this would carry them eastward to the Sault by a route far away from Port aux Pins. Mrs. Mile was to be sent back to that flourishing town on the day of their own departure, but preceding it in time by several hours; she would carry no tidings because she would know none. Hollis was to be taken into their confidence in a measure--he was to be informed that this change of plan was a necessity, and that Paul must not hear of it. "He will do what we tell him to do," Cicely remarked. "Oh, yes," said Eve, assentingly. The first North Shore steamer would not pass before the morning of the third day. For twenty-four hours Eve remained inert, she did nothing. The judge, troubled, but inexpressibly excited at the prospect of never seeing Port aux Pins again; of getting away from these cold woods, and in a few days from these horrible great lakes; of soon breathing once more the air of his dear, warm, low-lying country, with its old plantations, its old towns, its old houses and old friends, hurried about wildly, trotting hither and thither on many errands, but without accomplishing much. On the second day Eve's mood changed, and a feverish activity took possession of her also; she was up and out at dawn, she did everything she could think of, she worked incessantly. By noon there was nothing more left to do, and there still remained the whole half of the day, and the night. "I think I'll go out on the lake," she said to Cicely. "Yes, row hard; tire yourself," Cicely answered.