"No, I don't think you'll find her down there. Archie and Mr. Jonathan have quarreled loud enough to frighten her away."
"Quarreled again!" she said. "Oh, why have they quarreled again?"
"He must keep off our place," replied Archie, angrily. "I warned him I'll set the dogs on him the next time I find him on this side the fence!"
"How—how can you be so uncivilized?" she returned, and there were tears in her eyes.
"Uncivilized or not, he'll find he can't split my lip open for nothing," growled Archie, like a sullen child.
"You'd as well come back with us," said Abel, "the cat isn't down there—I'd take a look in the mill."
She turned her face away, stooping to pluck the withered frond of a fern that grew in the path. When she looked up at him again all the bloom and radiance had flown.
"Yes, I'll come back with you," she answered, and falling into step between them, walked languidly up the hill to the kitchen garden at the top. In his own misery Abel was hardly aware of her, and he heard as from a distance, Archie's muttered threats against Gay, and Blossom's palpitating responses. When they reached the house, Sarah's yellow and white cat squeezed herself through the door and came purring toward them.
"Why, the cat's got back!" exclaimed Archie.
"It must have been in the store-room all the time," returned Blossom quickly. "I forgot to look there. Now, I must go and pour out the butter milk for dinner before grandma scolds me."