I had no impulse to call on the judge. He could not help me solve anything, because his point of view was too much like mine. Moreover, I was still angry with him in an unreasonable way because he had failed me last night. Why hadn’t he arrived quietly, as he had promised, instead of getting into a scrape which necessitated explanations to the whole town? He had no right to break his arm!
I took the back street and followed it to the edge of the village, and there, in front of Mrs. Dove’s cottage, met her coming out of the white picket-gate with a tin pail on her arm. She smiled as if the world were just as usual and I one of her best friends. I was so surprised and grateful to meet some one who still considered me a normal human being that I could have kissed her.
“Do you want to join me?” asked Mrs. Dove. “I’m going to pick beach-plums. If you are going to be a regular householder up here, you ought to learn where to find them.”
“What do you do with them after you get them?”
I was already suiting my step to hers.
“Jelly.”
“Will you put mine up for me?”
“Why, the idea! Anybody can do it. There’s no trick to beach-plums.”
“But I want you to come down to the house to-night, and we’ll do them together.”
“Down to your house?” Mrs. Dove looked at me strangely.