Indeed, he had been my good friend—my good friend and Eve’s. And now he smiled once more Old Goodwin’s quiet smile. I loved that smile, breathing peace on earth and good will to men. It was easy to see where Eve had got hers. She smiled with her eyes, too, and in them I saw—but perhaps that was for me alone. But Old Goodwin, with his quiet smile, was yet Goodwin the Rich. It was a marvel.
“You are good children,” he said. “Good-night,—and bless you.”
So he ambled off, up the path that was beginning to show, even in that dim light. For a path is made by walking upon it, and even once a day will serve for that. And that path was walked on more than once a day. As he reached a turn, he waved his hand to us, and we to him.
“Eve,” I said, musing, “there goes a good man.”
She turned to me. “He is,” she said. “And I am glad to have you think that, Adam. There are those—who say cruel things of him.”
“They are wrong,” I cried. “I am convinced of it. From all envy, hatred, and malice, good Lord, deliver us. But what of that other rich man, Eve?”
As I looked up at Eve, waiting for my answer, I saw that she was smiling merrily.
“I told him,” she said, “that I was engaged already. And he seemed surprised at that, and he would know the name of the happy man. And I told him that, too. Did I do well? Are you”— She stopped and hesitated.
“Am I happy, Eve?” I answered softly. “Surely you know that I am. Happier than I thought I should ever be. And what did he say to that?”
“Oh, then, he did not understand. For I think he did not know you, Adam. And I said you were a fisherman, or a clammer, as occasion served. You should have seen his face. And he but wished me joy, and went; which was what I wanted.”