"Well, Peter Piper! Good enough! So you've come to the 'Bee,' too, have you? If you'd let me know where you were you'd have had your invitation long ago. Time enough, though, time enough. Always is to do a good deed, and there's a deal of work yet to be finished before nightfall. Let me tell you, Miss Dorothy Chester, there isn't a better gardener anywhere around than our friend Peter! If he'd only stick to it—if the lad would only stick to it!"
It was Seth Winters, of course, who had seen Dorothy's crossing of the field to that same spot where he, also, had discovered the feathered cap of the poor imbecile. He was honestly glad of the lad's return, being always somewhat anxious over his long absences. Much experience of life had shown him that the world is not very kind to such as Peter, and he tried by fatherly interest and goodness to make up to the boy somewhat for the harshness of others. Dorothy's action had delighted him: and with an approving smile he held his hands toward her, across the wall, and bade:
"Give me your hands, lassie! I'll help you back over; and, Peter, come."
Dorothy sprang lightly to the top of the wall and he swung her as lightly down; the half-wit following with a nimbleness one would not have expected and, like a child, catching hold of the girl's skirt and thus firmly attaching himself to her.
"Why, Peter! Don't do that! Young ladies don't like to drag big fellows like you around by main force!" remonstrated the smith, smiling and shaking his head at the youth, who merely smiled in return and clutched the tighter, even though the girl once or twice tried to loosen his grasp, attempting this so gently that it produced no effect; and thus escorted she came back to the stables beneath the trees and to the presence of Helena, toward whom officious Mrs. Smith immediately forced her.
Oddly enough, since they were so unlike, there was instant liking between the two girls; and with a smile Helena made room for Dorothy on the bench beside her. But there was no room for Peter, nor would he have claimed it now had there been plenty. With intense and haughty surprise Helena had stared at the unfortunate for a moment, till an amused contempt curved her lips in a disdainful smile.
In general, people did not credit the poor creature with sensitiveness; none save Seth Winters believing that he keenly felt the scoffs and gibes so often put upon him; but he now proved the truth of the blacksmith's opinion. Helena's scornful look did what Dorothy's efforts had failed to do—it loosened Peter's fingers from her skirt and sent him, cowering and abashed, to the furthest limit of the group. Fortunately, for him, straight also to a spot where Herbert Montaigne was merrily helping—or hindering—the women busy cooking over the fires upon the ground. Herbert had seen Dorothy's exit from the field with the great cake in hand and had, for an instant, intended pursuit that should end in a lark; then he had seen the red feathers of Peter's cap and reflected:
"That girl's got some fellow over there she's going to feed on the sly. They've both dropped down out of sight now—I reckon I won't spoil sport—shouldn't like it myself. It's none of my business anyhow, though I wouldn't mind being the fellow in the case—this time."
Also he made it sufficiently his business to watch for the reappearance of Dolly, minus the cake and attended by Seth and the too appreciative Peter. Then the whole significance of the incident flashed upon him, and to his boyish fancy for the little maid was instantly added a deep respect.
"Bless my eyes! I called her a 'daisy,' but she's more than that. There isn't a girl in a thousand who'd have done that decent thing without being bidden; but—Hello! seems as if she'd got what Mrs. Smith calls her 'come uppance'! The simpleton has glued himself to her petticoats and she can't shake him free!" Then a moment more of watching showed him the result of his sister's haughtiness and made him exclaim aloud: "Good enough for Helena! The first time I ever knew her confounded pride to be of any use. But here comes the victim of her scorn, and it's up to me to finish the job Dorothy C. has so well begun!"