The Crag was in the last car with a perfectly delicious old gray-haired
edition of Dickie, and I almost fell on both their necks at once. What
saved them was Polk appearing between us with three long mint-topped
glasses.
I'm glad old Dick immediately had his eyebrows well tangled in the mint
of his julep, for I got my own eyes farther down into Cousin James's
deep gray ones than I expected and it was hard to come up. I hadn't had
a plunge in them for three days and I went pretty deep.
"Eve!" he said softly, as he raised his glass and smiled across his
green tuft.
Yes, I know he knows that I know, there is an answer to that name when
he says it that way, but I'm not going to give it until I am ready and
the place is romantically secluded enough to suit me. He just dares me
when he says it to me before other people. That reminds me, the harvest
moon is full to-night and rises an hour later every evening from now on.
I don't want to wait another month before I propose to him. I've always
chosen moonlight for that catastrophe of my life. I wonder if men have
as good times planning the culmination of their suits as I am having
with mine?
But I had to come down quickly to a little thing like the rally and give
the signal to feed all the five hundred people, who by that time were
nice, polite, ravening wolves, for Jasper had uncovered the turkey-pit
to keep them from getting too brown while the lambs caught up with them.
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