"Lovely! Lend me an apron, and I'll risk the dress. This is a beautiful time of day to pick blackberries."
The three set off. As they passed the garden on the farther side of the hedge they were hailed by Donald Ferry. "May I go, too?" called the young man, and he leaped lightly over the hedge.
Jarvis Burnside went forward and held out his hand. "I heard you speak, this noon," he said, in a low tone.
Ferry returned the pressure heartily. "I saw you," he answered.
"You did? I was away back by the door."
"My eyes are pretty good. And it's easy to see a friend, you know."
"I'll be glad to have you call me that," said Jarvis.
"I've wanted to since I saw you first," replied Ferry, with the simplicity of manner which won him confidence and warm liking wherever he went.
He was in a holiday mood. He insisted on carrying all the pails, and juggled with them, producing a clash of sound which echoed through the meadows. In his gray flannels and flowing blue tie, he looked much more like a college boy than a member of the most dignified of professions.
"How strong and healthy he looks!" observed Jarvis to Sally, as they led the way toward the blackberry pasture. "He couldn't have got his education without spending more or less time in-doors, but he must have put in every spare minute in the open air. The sight of him makes me feel more than ever that I was a fool to dig away as I did, ruining my eyes for the sake of doing two years' work in one. Gained a lot, didn't I? Do you realize it's more than a year since I took my degree? And not a blessed thing since but idle around, waiting for these eyes to get back into shape."