"Naturally. I was a coming event, and I cast my shadow before."
The visitor shook the plump offered hand with no abstraction now in his eyes, and his teeth gleamed beneath his mustache. "I've no doubt I can tell what you were thinking about, too."
"Like enough. I s'pose lawyers know everything. Come into the house," said Miss Lovina hospitably.
"Not yet. It is far too pleasant here. Where is that old settee that used to be under the oriole elm? Why, there it is, of course, only pushed to the other side," and the speaker started for the desired haven.
"Come back, come back, Gorham Page. Don't you wade through the wet grass!" exclaimed Miss Berry imperatively.
Her visitor turned around, laughing. "That sounds natural, Aunt Love," he said.
"Well, perhaps it does," replied the other in half-laughing apology; "but haven't you learned good sense yet? The dew's a-fallin', and that grass ought to been mowed last week."
"Do you remember when I used to mow it for you?"
"I remember when you used to promise to," rejoined Miss Berry, the corners of her mouth still twitching. "Look here. I ain't goin' under that elm to set with my feet in the water."
"All right," replied Page, succumbing with a sigh, and casting a glance toward the graceful branches of the tallest elm, behind which the new moon glimmered in a primrose sky. "What an evening!" he ejaculated.