"Ah, ha, Fayette! I saw you. I'm sorry for you, but just you tell Goodsoul, here, that you'll remember not to shame your 'guardian angel' any more, and she'll let you up. I know her. Her heart's made of honey and sugar, and everything soft and sticky. I believe she's caught you in it, now, bad as you are, and if she has, you'll never get quite clear of her love and too demonstrative kindness."
Then she cried to Hallam, who was limping toward the tethered burros: "Now for a race. These dear little beasties would trot a good pace if they realized they were on the road to mother and father and Friend Adam Burn's big oat-bin!"
As they passed through the gateless entrance to "Bareacre," Hallam turned, and with something of Amy's cheerfulness waved his hand to Cleena.
"We'll be back before dark, Goodsoul. Don't keep that lad tied any longer. Don't."
"Arrah musha! Can't I do what I will with me own? There's somewhat to pass 'twixt him an' me afore he gets free o' them bonds."
Evidently, there was; nor was she sorry to see all go and leave her alone with Fayette. Of what occurred during their brief absence at the Clove, nobody ever heard; but when the brother and sister rode up the slope, just as the evening fell, Fayette appeared to meet them and take their burros for them. His manner was subdued and gentle, and on his homely face was a look of exceeding peace.
Amy nudged Hallam mischievously. "Another lull before another storm, isn't it?"
Hallam regarded the half-wit critically. "No. But I think he's 'met his Waterloo.'"
"Oh, is that what we are to call her in future? She's already as many names as a Spanish princess." Then she lifted her voice to summon Cleena.