But Eades declined, and Ford glanced at him in the suspicion which was part of the bereaved and jealous feeling that was poisoning this evening of happiness for him. He knew that Eades smoked, and he wondered why he now refused. "He declines because I’m getting old; he wishes to shun my society; he feels that if he accepts the cigar, he will have to stay long enough to smoke it. It will be that way now. Yes, I’m getting old. I’m out of it." So ran Ford’s thoughts. Eades had gone to the window and stood looking out across the dark trees to the river, swimming in the moonlight. Below him were the pretty lights of Japanese lanterns, beyond, at the road, the two lamps on the gate-posts. The odors of the June night came to him and, from below, the laughter of the wedding-guests and the strains of an orchestra. "What a beautiful place you have here, Mr. Ford!" Eades exclaimed. "Well, it’ll do for an old--for a man to spend his declining years." "Yes, indeed," mused Eades. Ford winced at this immediate acquiescence. "And what a night!" Eades went on, "Ideal for a wedding." Ford looked at him a moment, then decided to change the subject. "Well, I see you struck pay-dirt in the grand jury," he said. "Yes," replied Eades, turning away from night and nature when such subjects were introduced. "You’re doing a good work there," said Ford; "a good work for law and order." He used the stereotyped phrase in the old belief that "law" and "order" are synonyms, though he was not thinking of law or of order just then; he was thinking of the radiant girl in the drawing-room below. Eades turned to the window again. The night attracted him. He did not care to talk. He, too, was thinking of a girl in the drawing-room below; thinking how she had looked in that moment during the ceremony when he had had the glimpse of her. He must go at once and find her. He succeeded presently in getting away from Ford, and left in a manner that deepened Ford’s conviction that he was out of it. He met her at the foot of the staircase, and they went out of doors. "Oh," exclaimed Elizabeth, "how delicious it is out here!" In silence they descended the wide steps from the veranda and went down the walk. The sky was purple, the stars trembled in it, and the moon filled all the heavens with a light that fell to the river, flowing silently below them. They went on to the narrow strip of sward that sloped to the water. On the dim farther shore they could see the light in some farm-house; far down the river was the city, a blur of light. "What a beautiful place the Fords have here!" said Eades. "Yes," said Elizabeth, "it’s ideal." "It’s my ideal of a home," said Eades, and then after a silence he went on. "I’ve been thinking a good deal of home lately." He glanced at the girl; she had become still almost to rigidity.