Eve came down to breakfast in the panelled dining-room at “Rock Cottage,” and stood at one of the open windows, watching an Aberdeen puppy demolishing an old shoe in the middle of the lawn. The grass had been mown the day before, and the two big borders on the near side of the yew hedge were full of colour, chiefly the blues of delphiniums and the rose and white of giant stocks. Nearer still were two rose beds planted with the choicest hybrid teas, and mauve and yellow violas. The rock garden beyond the yew hedge had lost some of its May gorgeousness, but the soft tints of its rocks and the greys and greens of the foliage were very restful to the eyes. Above it hung the blue curtain of a rare June day. “Billy, you bad boy, come here!” The puppy growled vigorously, and worried the shoe up and down the lawn. “Oh, you baby! You have got to grow up into a responsible dog, and look after my house.” She laughed, just because she was happy, and, kneeling on the window-seat, began a flirtation with Master Billy, who was showing off like any small boy. “Now, I’m sure I’m more interesting than that shoe.” A bright eye twinkled at her. “I suppose it is very wrong of me to let you gnaw slippers. I am sure Mrs. Baxter is harder hearted. But you are so young, little Billy, and too soon you will be old.” The door opened, and a large woman with a broad and comfortable face sailed in with a tray. “Good morning, miss!” “Good morning, Mrs. Baxter! Whose shoe has Billy got?” “I’m thinking it’s one of mine, miss.” “The wretch!” “I gave it him, miss. It’s only an old one.” Eve’s eyes glimmered. “Oh, Mrs. Baxter, how very immoral of you! I thought Billy’s education would be safe with you.” “There, miss, he’s only a puppy.” “But think of our responsibilities!” “I wouldn’t give tuppence for a boy or a puppy as had no mischief in him, miss!” “But think of the whackings afterwards.” “I don’t think it does no harm. I’ve no sympathy with the mollycoddles. I do hold with a boy getting a good tanning regular. If he deserves it, it’s all right. If he’s too goody to deserve it, he ought to get it for not deserving of it.” Eve laughed, and Mrs. Baxter put the tea-pot and a dish of sardines on toast on the table. She was a local product, and an excellent one at that, and being a widow, had been glad of a home. “I’ve made you the China tea, miss. And the telephone man, he wants to know when he can come and fix the hinstrument.” “Any time this morning.” “Thank you, miss.”