"What is it, John?"
"Are you going to marry Jim McIver?"
"How do you know that he wants me?"
"Father told me to-day. Don't fence please, dear. Either tell me straight out or tell me to mind my own business."
She replied with straightforward honesty, "Mr. McIver has asked me, John, but I can't tell you what my answer will be. I don't know myself."
CHAPTER X
CONCERNING THE NEW MANAGER
When the Mill whistle sounded at the close of that pay day, Mary was sitting under the tree in the yard with her sewing basket—a gift from the Interpreter—on the grass beside her chair. The sunlight lay warm and bright on the garden where the ever industrious bees were filling their golden bags with the sweet wealth of the old-fashioned flowers. Bright-winged butterflies zigzagged here and there above the shrubbery along the fence and over her head; in the leafy shadows of the trees her bird friends were cheerfully busy with their small duties. Now and then a passing neighbor paused to exchange a word or two of their common interests. Presently workmen from the Mill went by—men of her father's class who lived in that vicinity of well-kept cottage homes; and each one called a greeting to the daughter of his friend.
And so, at last, Peter Martin himself and Captain Charlie turned in at the little white gate and came to sit down on the grass at her feet.
"You are late to-day," said Mary, smiling. "I suppose you both have forgotten that the vegetable garden is to be hoed this afternoon and that you, Charlie, promised to beat the rugs for me."