Away went Rumple, nothing loath. Something fresh always appealed to him, and in this new land fresh things were meeting him at every turn.
Fascinated, he stood watching the machine, the cream pouring from one spout and the milk from the other, while a rosy-faced Miss Warner turned the handle, and another Miss Warner, with pale cheeks and quite a stylish air, bustled about the dairy putting things straight for the night.
"If you please, have you seen or heard anything of our wagon?" asked Rumple, when at length the separating was done for the night and both girls were busy clearing up.
"No, we haven't; but Bella and a friend are going to walk out to the road after work to see if they can find out anything for you," said the stylish sister, and Bella, the red-cheeked one, gurgled and choked with amazing enjoyment, and said:
"My friend indeed! La, Amy, how neatly you always put things!"
They all went in to supper after that, but Rumple, who had eaten so many scones and so much butter that he would not be hungry for a long time to come, sat on the step of the veranda and stared out at the darkening night, feeling a little homesick for the others.
Then away in the distance he heard the slow rumble of wagon wheels, and a moment later a clear voice rang out on the still air:
"Steady, Rocky, steady, old fellow, or you will upset the whole show into the ditch!"
"It is Nealie!" yelled Rumple in an ecstasy of joy. "Mrs. Warner, our wagon is coming, for I can hear my sister Nealie calling to the horse."
"Now that is downright good news. Come, bustle about, girls, and get some more supper ready, for the poor things will be nearly starved by this time, I should think!" cried the hospitable mistress of the farm.