Winding and wandering, it led its comrade around the base of Pine Knob, into a bird-enchanted woodland and whirling suddenly around a sharp corner, swooped out into an open, birch-fringed glade where a host of Quaker ladies powdered the grass and butter-cups made love to them brazenly.
“There!” shouted the brook, leaping a mossy stone for sheer love of splashing, and making rainbows in the sunlight. “What do you think of June now?” With a gurgle of glee it romped away through the birches, but Archibald stayed in the glade.
A girl was sitting among the Quaker ladies. Her hair was full of golden lights. Her eyes were full of laughter. Her lap was full of flowers and puppies and kittens. A big collie dog stood sentinel at her shoulder. At her feet on the grass, two fat babies rolled about in a riotous tussle with a puppy, strayed from the lapful.
A twig cracked under the man’s foot. The dog growled warningly and the girl, glancing round, saw the intruder standing among the birches.
Apparently she was not startled, and she was as little embarrassed.
“Don’t pay any attention to him. It’s principle with him, not passion,” she said, laying a quieting hand on the dog’s head.
Archibald and she might have been meeting every day for months. Not a hint of self-consciousness ruffled her gay serenity. She made no effort to rise—merely sat there in the sunshine with young life rioting over her and round her and smiled up at the stranger out of clear, fearless, brown eyes that were used to greeting friends. There was no room for doubt. This was Pegeen’s Smiling Lady.
Archibald’s cap was in his hand. Apology was on his lips, but looking down at the group, he laughed instead of apologizing. Babies, puppies, kittens—all were staring at him solemnly, uncertainly. The collie was staring, too, with more dignity and with deeper suspicion.
Only the Smiling Lady accepted him without reserve, had no doubts about him.
“We came after flowers,” she said. “At least we intended to get flowers, but there were so many of us, and some of us had such short legs, and all of us except Sandy had such vagabond, inconsequent souls, that we just sat down and rolled around in flowers instead of picking them.”