“‘The moon, serene in glory, mounts the sky,’” murmured the Doctor.  “’The wandering moon’—­how does it go?  I’m thinking of some lines of Milton’s.  Let me see; ah!”

                “’The wandering moon,
  Riding near her highest noon,
  Like one that has been led astray
  Through the heaven’s wide pathless way.’”

Later, when the lights of the village had disappeared one by one under the tranquil elms, the Doctor returned to the attack.

“Take another week to think it over, Herrick,” he urged.  “Who knows what may happen in a week, eh?  Women’s minds have been known to change before this, my friend.”

“Hers won’t,” answered Wade, convincedly.  “Her note left little doubt as to that.”

“But don’t you think you ought to see her again?”

“Yes, I shall call in the morning to say good-by.”

“H’m, yes,” muttered the other, doubtfully.  “I know what such a call is like.  You go into the parlor and Miss Eve and Miss Mullett come in together, and you all talk a lot of pasty foolishness for five minutes and then you shake hands and leave.  That doesn’t help any.  See her alone if only for a minute, Herrick; give yourselves a chance; bless my soul, lad, don’t you realize that you can’t risk spoiling two lives for the want of a moment’s determination?  If it’s pride, put it in your pocket!”

“I’d do anything,” replied Wade, with a little laugh, “if I thought it could do any good.  The fact is, Doctor, I’m pretty certain that the other fellow is too strong for me.”

“The other fellow!  I don’t believe there is or has been another fellow!  I’d bet my bottom dollar that you two young folks care for each other.  You’ve gone and made a mess of things between you, and damned if I don’t think it’s my duty to meddle!”

“Please don’t,” said Wade.  “It’s good of you to want to help, but—­what’s the use of talking about it?  Miss Walton knows her own mind—­”

“She didn’t a couple of days ago,” said the Doctor, gruffly.  “She asked my advice about you.  I told her to take you if she wanted you, and she said she didn’t know whether she did or didn’t.”

“She seems to have found out since then,” said Wade, dryly.

“It must have been sudden, then.  Look here, was there any quarrel?  Any misunderstanding?”

“None.  I haven’t spoken to her since Saturday night.”

“Well, it beats me,” said the Doctor, leaning over to knock the ashes from his pipe.  “I’m plumb certain she cares for you, and just as certain that you’re making a mistake by running away.”  He stood up and scowled fiercely at the moon.  “Well, I must be off.  I’ll see you to-morrow.  You’re not going until afternoon, you said?”

“I leave here about two,” said Wade.  “I shall spend to-morrow night in Boston and take a morning train west.”

“Well, you know my opinion,” the Doctor growled.  “Sleep on it; think it over again.  Good night.”