Somewhere about the house a canary twittered softly. Evelyn Walton, arrested on the sitting room threshold, a fold of the light portière clasped in one hand, gazed at the intruder. Wade1, frozen to immobility just inside the door, one hand still grasping the knob, gazed at the girl. His mind was a blank. His lips moved mechanically, but no words issued from them. It seemed to him that whole minutes had passed, although in reality the old-fashioned clock at the end of the hall had ticked not more than thrice. He felt the color surging into his face, and at last sheer desperation loosened his tongue.
"Is there anything I can do—" he began.
But at the very same moment Evelyn Walton's power of speech returned likewise, and—
"You wished to see—some one?" she inquired.
As they spoke2 absolutely together neither heard the other's question and each silently awaited an answer.
"Tick ... tock" said the old clock, sleepily.
Wade's gaze wandered. He wondered whether it would be unforgivable to dash quickly out and slam the door behind him. But in the next breath escape was forgotten and he was looking about him in sheer amazement3. Here was his hallway, but no longer empty. A shield-backed chair stood beside the parlor4 door. A settle ran along the wall beyond. A pink-cheeked moon leered at him from the top of a tall clock. Bewilderedly he looked toward the sitting-room5. There, too, everything was changed. The floor was painted gray. Rugs took the place of carpet. Gauzy lace curtains hung at the windows. A canary in a gilt6 cage sung above an open window. Oh, plainly he was bewitched or the world was topsy-turvy! The look he turned on the girl was so helpless, so entreating7 that her face, which had begun to set coldly, softened8 instantly. The hand clasping the curtain fold fell to her side and she took a step toward him.
"Can I help you?" she asked, kindly9.
Wade passed a hand over his eyes.
"I don't know," he murmured. "Will you please tell me where I am?"
"You're in my house. I am Miss Walton."
"Your house? Then—then where is mine, please?" he asked, helplessly.
"Just beyond here; the next one."
"Oh!" he said. He sought for words with which to explain the situation, but found none. He backed out, tripped slightly over the sill and found himself on the top step. He dared one more look into the girl's amused and sympathetic face and then turned and fled precipitately10. At the gate he brushed against some one, muttered an apology, and plunged11 through. Evelyn Walton, following his course of flight from the doorway12, laughed softly. Miss Caroline Mullett, standing13 on tiptoe in the middle of the path, strove to see over the hedge, and, failing, turned to the girl with breathless curiosity.
"Why, Eve, who was that?"
"He didn't leave his card, dear," replied Eve, with a gurgle of suppressed laughter, "but there is every reason to believe that his name is Herrick."
"The gentleman who has taken the next house? And what did he want? He seemed in such a hurry, and so very much excited! You don't think, do you, that he is going to have a sunstroke? His face was extremely congested."
"No, dear," replied Eve, as she followed Miss Mullett into the sitting-room, "I don't think he's in danger of sunstroke. You're getting to be quite as bad as Zephania on that subject. The fact is, dear, that the ensanguined condition of Mr. Herrick's face was due to his having mistaken our humble14 abode15 for his."
"My dear! How embarrassing!"
"So he seemed to think," laughed Evelyn.
"But I can quite understand it," continued Miss Mullett, laying aside her hat and smoothing down her hair. Miss Mullett's hair was somewhat of the shade of beech16 leaves in fall and was not as thick as it had once been. She wore it parted in the middle and combed straight down over the tips of her ears. Such severe framing emphasized the gentleness of her face. "You know yourself, Eve dear, that the first summer we were here we often found ourselves entering the wrong gate. The houses are as much alike as two peas."
"I know. But, oh, Carrie, if you could have seen his expression when it dawned on him that he was in the wrong house! It's too bad to laugh at him, but I just have to."
"I hope you didn't laugh while he was here," said Miss Mullett, anxiously.
"I'm afraid I did—just a little," replied Eve, contritely17. "But I don't think he saw it. He was too—too bewildered and horrified18, and terribly embarrassed. I really pitied him. I don't think I ought to pity him, either, for he gave me quite a fright when he opened the front door and walked in just as though he'd come to murder us all."
"Poor man!" sighed Miss Mullett. "He must be feeling awfully19 about it. And—and didn't you think him exceedingly nice looking? So big and—and manly20!"
"Manly?" laughed Eve. "He looked to me more like a very small boy discovered in the preserve closet!"
"Of course, but I'm afraid you were a little—oh, the least little bit unfeeling, dear."
"Perhaps I was," owned Eve, thoughtfully. "I shouldn't want him to think me—impolite."
"No indeed! Do you think he will call?"
"After this morning? My dear Carrie, did he look to you like a man coming to call?"
"But in a day or two, perhaps? Don't you think that it is possibly our duty to convey to him in some delicate manner that he—that we—that his mistake was quite natural—"
"We might put a personal in the Tottingham Courier. 'If the gentleman who inadvertently called at The Cedars21 on Tuesday morning will return, no questions will be asked and all will be forgiven.' How would that do?"
"I'm afraid he would never see the paper unless we lent him our copy," replied Miss Mullett, with a smile. "But surely we might convey by our manner when meeting him on the street that we would be pleased to make his acquaintance?"
"Why, Caroline Mullett!" gasped22 Eve, in mock astonishment23. "What kind of behavior is that for two respectable maiden24 ladies?"
"My dear, I'm an old maid, I know, but you're not. And if you think for a moment that I'm going to sit here and twiddle my thumbs while there's a nice-looking bachelor in the next house, you're very much mistaken. Dear knows, Eve, I love Eden Village from end to end, but I never heard of an Eden yet that wasn't better for having a man in it!"
"You're right," sighed Eve. "Do you realize, Carrie, that the only eligible25 man we know here is Doctor Crimmins? And he's old enough to be father to both of us."
"The Doctor plays a very good hand of cribbage," replied Miss Mullett, approvingly. And then triumphantly26: "I have it, dear!"
"What?"
"The Doctor shall call on Mr. Herrick and bring him to see us!"
"Splendid!" laughed Eve. "And he will never know that we schemed and intrigued27 to get him. Carrie, I don't see how, with your ability, you ever missed marriage."
"I never have missed it," replied Miss Mullett, with a sniff28. She took up her hat and started toward the hall. At the door she turned and seemed about to speak, but evidently thought better of it and disappeared. Eve smiled. And then Miss Mullett's plain, sweet little face peered around the corner of the door, and—
"Much," she whispered.
