passed Barton as if she did not even see him
and went directly to her father.

"I am riding," she murmured almost inaudibly.

"In this heat?" groaned her father.

"In this heat," echoed Eve Edgarton.

"There will surely be a thunder-storm," protested her father.

"There will surely be a thunder-storm," acquiesced Eve Edgarton.

Without further parleying she turned and strolled off again.

Just for an instant the Older Man's glance followed her. Just for an
instant with quizzically twisted eyebrows his glance flashed back
sardonically to Barton's suffering face. Then very leisurely he began
to laugh again.

But right in the middle of the laugh--as if something infinitely
funnier than a joke had smitten him suddenly--he stopped short, with
one eyebrow stranded half-way up his forehead.

"Eve!" he called sharply. "Eve! Come back here a minute!"

Very laggingly from around the piazza corner the girl reappeared.

"Eve," said her father quite abruptly, "this is Mr. Barton! Mr.
Barton, this is my daughter!"

Listlessly the girl came forward and proffered her hand to the Younger
Man. It was a very little hand. More than that, it was an exceedingly
cold little hand.

"How do you do, sir?" she murmured almost inaudibly.

With an expression of ineffable joy the Older Man reached out and
tapped his daughter on the shoulder.

"It has just transpired, my dear Eve," he beamed, "that you can do
this young man here an inestimable service--tell him something--teach
him something, I mean--that he very specially needs to know!"

As one fairly teeming with benevolence he stood there smiling blandly
into Barton's astonished face. "Next to the pleasure of bringing
together two people who like each other," he persisted, "I know of
nothing more poignantly diverting than the bringing together of people
who--who--" Mockingly across his daughter's unconscious head,
malevolently through his mask of utter guilelessness and peace, he
challenged Barton's staring helplessness. "So--taken all in all," he
drawled still beamingly, "there's nothing in the world--at this
particular moment, Mr. Barton--that could amuse me more than to have
you join my daughter in her ride this afternoon!"

"Ride with me?" gasped little Eve Edgarton.

"This afternoon?" floundered Barton.

"Oh--why--yes--of course! I'd be delighted! I'd be--be! Only--! Only
I'm afraid that--!"

Deprecatingly with uplifted hand the Older Man refuted every
protest. "No