"It's mighty nice to feel one's self out of it. I've got you to thank for that, too, 'long of lots of other things. Isn't the club doing fine? We wouldn't have had that, either, but for you."
"Nonsense! Indeed, you would. Hallam was as interested as I in the subject; and as soon as we told Uncle Fred, he was even more eager than we. But it is to father we all owe the most, I think."
"So do I. To dream of a splendid gentleman like him, and such a painter, taking so much time and trouble just for a lot of mill folks, I think it's grand. I don't understand how he can."
"Seeing that his own two children are 'mill folks,' I can, readily," answered Amy, laughing. "But, indeed, I know he would go on with it now just as thoroughly, even if we were not in the case at all."
This talk occurred one lovely afternoon when the half-holiday made a club picnic a possible and most delightful thing. The two girls, Gwendolyn and Amy, were a little earlier than the others, and were on their way to the appointed meeting place, "Treasure Island," a small piece of wooded ground rising in the middle of the Ardsley's widest span. From the island to the banks, on either side, were foot-bridges, and in the grove tables and benches had been built by the lads of the organization. It was an ideal picnic ground, and these were ideal picnickers; for those who toil the hardest on most days of the week enter most heartily into the recreations they do secure.
The girls were passing down into the glen where Amy had once lost her way and been rescued by Fayette. It seemed so long ago that she could hardly realize how few months had really elapsed.
She spoke of the matter to her companion, who seemed to be in a reflective mood that afternoon, and who again remarked upon the change in the mill boy, also.
"Your uncle and Cleena Keegan have made him different, too. He's as proud as Punch of his mushroom raising, isn't he? He owes that to Mister Fred; but, odd! he's as scared of Cleena as if she owned him. He didn't forgive that thing about Balaam, and seems to feel he has a right to him, same's Mr. Metcalf has."
"Poor old Balaam, he's made a lot of trouble, first and last; but I guess he's all right now, only Cleena won't let Fayette talk of him. She says it's 'punishment,'—the only sort she can inflict. I don't understand why she wants him punished, anyway."
"Maybe for stealing him that Christmas night out of Mr. Wingate's stable."