that lies at the very bottom of my heart.

Nobody ever found it before and I didn't know it was there myself, but I
felt as if it were being drained up into Heaven.

"Eve!" He said again, and it is a wonder that I didn't answer:

"Adam!"

I don't know just what would have happened if Uncle Peter hadn't broken
in on the interview with his crustiest chips on both shoulders and so
much excitement bottled up that he had to let it fly like a double
reporter.

"Dodson is down at the Hotel looking for you, James," he began as he
hurried up the steps. "Big scheme this--got him in a corner if the C. &
G. comes along this side of Old Harpeth--make him squeal--hey?"

"Who's Dodson?" I asked with the greatest excitement. I was for the
first time getting a whiff of the schemes of the masculine mighty, but I
was squelched promptly by Uncle Peter.

"We've no time for questions, Evelina, now--go back to your
tatting--hey?" He answered me as he began to buttonhole the Crag and
lead him down the steps.

"Dodson is the man who is laying down and contracting for the line
across the river, Evelina," answered Cousin James without taking any
notice whatever of Uncle Peter's squelching of me. "If this other line
can just be secured he will have to come to our terms--and the situation