Like a bird of the night the little canoe shot towards it, skimmed its darkness and then slipped, effortless, into shining silver space.

The smile of the moon! Pleasing old hypocrite! Always she smiles the same upon two in a canoe! They were paddling toward her so that her light fell full on the doctor's face--a clean cut, virile face, manly, stern, yet with a whimsical sweetness hidden somewhere.
"How handsome he is!" thought Esther, exactly as the moon intended.
"Strong, too," her thought added as the light picked out his well-set shoulders and the sweep of the arm which sped the paddle so lightly yet so strongly up and down.

Clear, yet soft, the moon showed no touch of grey in the hair (although the grey was there) nor did she point out the markings which were the legacy of strenuous years.

Seen so, he appeared no older than she who watched shyly from girlish eyes.
With a little shiver of utmost content Esther settled herself against the thwart of the canoe.
Manlike he did not know the meaning of that shiver.
"Fool that I am!" he exclaimed.

"You are cold, and behold we have left behind the shawl of Mrs.Sykes' grandmother!" "Indeed we have not! The dog would have torn it to bits.