hadowy canyon which stretched down almost to the bay, and
came out on the lower streets of the water-front.

Eveley stood on her rustic stairway and gloated over it lovingly,--the
rambling house, the rambling gardens, the beautiful rambling canyon, and
then on below to the lights on the bay, clustered together in
companionable groups.

"Loma Portal, Fort Rosecranz, North Island, Coronado, and the boats in
the bay," she whispered softly, pointing slowly to the separate groups.
And her eyes were very warm, for she loved each separate light in every
cluster, and she was happy that she was at home again, in the place that
had been home to her since the days of her early memory.

Eveley's mother had been born in the house on Thorn Street, as had her
sister, Eloise, the aunt with whom the girls had lived for many years.
And after the death of her husband, when Eveley was a tiny baby, Emily
Ainsworth had taken her two girls and gone back to live with her sister
in the family home. There a few years later she too had passed away,
leaving her children in the tender, loving hands of Aunt Eloise. And the
years had passed until there came a time when Winifred was married, and
Eveley and her aunt lived on alone, though always happily.

But investments had gone badly, and returns went down as expenses went
up. So Eveley studied stenography, and took genuine pleasure in her
career as a business girl. With her salary, and their modest income, the
two had managed nicely. Then when Aunt Eloise went out to join her
sister, the Thorn Street house was left to Eveley, and other property
given to Winifred to compensate. So that to Eveley it was only coming
home to return to the big house and the rambling gardens. But to meet the
expenses of maintenance it was necessary that part of the large house
should be rented.

Eveley, always adaptable, moved serenely into her cote at the head of the
stairs, and felt that life was still kind and God was good, for this was
home, and it was hers, and she had come to stay.

She almost regretted the impulsive promise to her sister that drew her
out of her dwelling on the first night of her tenancy. Not only did she
begrudge the precious first-night hours away from her pretty cote in the
clouds, but she was not charmed with the arrangement for the evening. She
was an ardent devotee of clubs of action, rowing, tennis, country,
dancing and golf, but for that other type of club, which she described as
"whe