Chapter XII

There was a bench outside the kitchen door at The Cedars, a slant-legged, unpainted bench which at one time had been used to hold milk-cans. Wade settled himself on this in company with several dozen glasses of currant jelly. From his position he could look in at the kitchen door upon Eve and Miss Mullett, who, draped from chin to toes in blue-checked aprons, were busy over the summer preserving. A sweet, spicy fragrance was wafted out to him from the bubbling kettles, and now and then Eve, bearing a long agate-ware spoon and adorned on one cheek with a brilliant streak of currant juice, came to the threshold and smiled down upon him in a preoccupied manner, glancing at the jelly tumblers anxiously.

"If you spill them," she said, "Carrie will never forgive you, Mr. Herrick."

"Nonsense," declared Miss Mullett from the kitchen. "I'd just send you for more, Mr. Herrick, and make you help me put them up."

"I think I'd like that," answered Wade.

"It must be rather good fun messing about with sugar and currants and things."

"Messing about!" exclaimed Eve, indignantly. "It's quite evident that you've never done any of it!"

"Well, I stewed some dried apricots once," said Wade, "and they weren't half bad. I suppose you're going to be busy all the morning, aren't you?" he asked, forlornly.

"I'm afraid so."

"Indeed you're not," said Miss Mullett, decisively. "You're going to stop as soon as we get this kettleful off. I can do the rest much better without you, dear."

"Did you ever hear such ingratitude?" laughed Eve. "Here I've been hard at work since goodness only knows what hour of the morning, and now I'm informed that my services are valueless! I shall stay and help just to spite you, Carrie."

"I wanted you to take a walk," said Wade, boldly. "It's a great morning, too fine to be spent indoors."

"Is it?" Eve looked up at the fleecy sky critically. "Don't you think it looks like rain?"

"Not a bit," he answered, stoutly. "We're in for a long drought. Zephania told me so not half an hour ago."

"Is Zephania a weather prophet?"

"She's everything. She knows so much that she makes me ashamed of myself. And she never makes a mistake about the weather."

Wade waited anxiously.

"We-ll," said Eve, finally, "if you're sure it isn't going to rain, and Carrie really doesn't want me--"

"I do not," said Miss Mullett, crisply. "A walk will do you good. She stayed up until all hours last night, Mr. Herrick, writing. I wish you'd say something to her; she pays no attention to me."

Wade flushed. Eve turned and shot