As I passed down through my garden I glanced at my corn. It was flat, as I expected, save one great stalk, stronger than its comrades, or more deeply rooted, and that stalk waved and thrashed about in anguish. It would break soon, I knew. And I mused as I leaned against the wind upon its fate--how it must be broken and die, while the stalks less well rooted did but go down before the blast, and live and grow. But I gave my corn no more thought, for I was come to the steep path that led me down along the shore, and by the water, now all brown with sand and mud that had been stirred from the bottom. For, although it was fairly quiet here, being in the lee of the bluff, the water was well stirred, as any might guess from looking out upon it. And I came to the bank, where the sod breaks off to the sand, and no Eve was there. And, indeed, I had known better, but can a man help hoping? It was much too early, and who could expect her to come down in that wind? And as I made these excuses for her, behold, she stepped from behind a great tree, and she laughed aloud to see my face. “Oh, Adam!” she cried, “one would think, to see you as you came, that you had lost your last friend, and were just come to the funeral.” “And then,” I answered, smiling up at her,--“what then, Eve?” “Why, then,--you seemed surprised and”-- With that she stopped, and she stood upon the bank above, and I on the sand below; and she put her hands upon my shoulders, one on each, and looked down into my face. And I looked up into her eyes, and I forgot the storm, and I forgot that wild wind that blew, and I forgot all things save what I saw there. And, an instant, she bent to me. “Oh, Adam, Adam!” she cried, “I am glad, glad that you care so much. For it is not easy for me.” And I said no word, but only held her so for some while. And presently she laughed, as if she were half ashamed, and drew her from my arms. And I saw that her face was wet. It may have been the rain--I do not know. A fisherman, in sou’wester and oilskins, holding in his arms a Daughter of the Rich. I laughed aloud at the thought. For, though she, too, had on boots, she seemed no fit mate for such as I--in her long coat, that covered her from neck to heel, and with her wide felt hat, tied down behind. Indeed, I grudged that to necessity--for her hair was all hid, under the hat.