After giving some charges to Rachel, Andrew walked down the path that led to the road. Was Primrose afraid of punishment, and had Rachel said more to her than she was willing to own? This was no place for her, Andrew said to himself manfully. And if his mother was to be ill——
He changed his steps and went to the barn. Would Rover remember the little girl of last summer? He raised the clumsy wooden latch.
"Come, Rover," he said cheerily. "Come, we must go and find Primrose. I wonder if thou hast forgotten her?"
Rover sprang out and made a wide, frolicsome detour. Then he came back to his master and listened attentively, looked puzzled, and started off again down the road, but returned with a sort of dissatisfaction in his big brown eyes.
"The orchard, perhaps. We might look there first. She was such a venturesome, climbing little thing last year."
Rover ran about snuffling, and started off at a rapid rate, giving a series of short, exultant barks as he bounded to his master.
"Good Rover!" patting the shaggy creature, who sprang up to his shoulder in joy.
Primrose was still asleep. The winds had kissed with fragrant touches, the birds had sung to her, the bees had crooned, and the early summer insects ventured upon faint chirps, as if they hardly knew whether they might be allowed to mar the radiant summer day. How divinely beautiful it was!
Her head had fallen on her shoulder and the old tree rose gray and protecting. The long fringe of lashes swept her cheek, her hair was tumbled about in shining rings, her dewy lips slightly apart, almost as if she smiled.
She had been worn out with her crying last night, but now was rested and fresh. The dog's bark roused her, and she opened her eyes.