"Oh, I heard her talking about you to mother before you came," Harold replied; "she said you'd be more trouble than enough, she expected."
"Why should she have said that?" cried Billy indignantly, adding, as Harold shook his head, "I think it was an unkind thing to say, and—and an unkind thing to repeat!"
Harold looked rather ashamed.
"Now you're angry," he said, "and won't come on Saturday, I suppose. Well, do as you like!"
He went off, leading May, who had listened to the conversation between the two boys in puzzled silence. Billy watched them through the orchard with a swelling heart. As they passed through the gateway into the pathfields May looked back and waved her hand.
"Good-bye, Billy!" she cried; "I'll come again to-morrow if mother'll let me! I like you, Billy, I do!"
Billy nodded and smiled. Then a cold nose touched his hand, and Scout rubbed against him. He bent to caress the dog, and as he did so, heard his grandfather's voice calling him to come in to tea. It sounded so hearty that he felt quite cheered by it.
"At any rate he isn't vexed I had to come here!" he said to himself.