"Yes, the you I met out there on the mountain, the you that made love to
me and set my silly little girl's heart a-fluttering. Don't you think
now it was wicked of you? Why, Wade--oh!"
"That's my name," he laughed.
"It's a funny name, isn't it?" she murmured, shyly.
"I suppose it is."
"But I like it. Oh, dear, I must go! It must be midnight!"
"No, only twenty minutes of," he answered, holding his watch to the
light. "Don't go yet. There's so much I want to say!"
"To-morrow," she answered, smiling up at him. "Do you know that you're
still holding my hands?"
"I don't know what I know," he answered, softly. "Only that I love you
and that I'm the happiest man alive."
"Are you? Why?"
"Because you're going to marry me."
"I haven't said so," she objected.
"But you're going to?"
"To-morrow--perhaps."
"No, to-night--surely."
"To-morrow."
"To-night."
"Am I?" she sighed. "We-ell--do you want me to?"
"Yes," he answered, tremulously. He drew her to him, unresistingly. The
moon made silver pools of her eyes. Her mouth, slightly parted, was like
a crimson rosebud.
"Eve!" he whispered, hoarsely.
Her eyes closed and her head dropped happily back against his arm. The
moonlight was gone now from her face.
Ages later--or was it only a few moments?--they were standing apart
again, hands still linked, looking at each other across the little space
of magic light.
"I must go now," she said softly. "Good night."
"Please, not yet!"
"But think of the time! Besides, it's quite--quite awful, anyway!
Suppose Carrie heard of it!"
"Let her! You're mine, aren't you?"
"Good night."
"Aren't you?"
"Every little bit of me, dear, for ever and ever," she answered.
They said good night again a few minutes later and a little nearer the
house. And again after that.
At a quarter to one Wade came to himself after a fashion at the end of
the village street, smiling insanely at a white gate-post. With a happy
sigh he turned homeward, his hands in his pockets, his head thrown back,
and his lips pursed for a tune that forgot to come. A few steps brought
him opposite the Doctor's house and the imp of mischief whispered in his
ear. Wade laughed aloud. Then he crossed the street under the dark
canopy of the elms and-pulled the office bell till it jangled wildly. A
head came out of a window above.
"What's wanted?" asked the Doctor's sleepy voice. "Who is it?"
"It's Herrick. Come down, please."
After a moment the key turned and the Doctor, arrayed in a vast figured
dressing-gown stood in the open door.
"Is it you?" he asked. "What's wrong? Who's ill"?"
"No one's ill, Doctor," said Herrick. "I just wanted to know if you had
any remedy for happiness?"
Perhaps Wade's radiant, laughing face gave the Doctor his cue, for,
after studying it a moment, he asked, with a chuckle:
"Have you tried marriage?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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