The suggestion that something still could be done, put new life into Peggy. It is quite certain that the clumsy dug-out made record time in reaching the landing. The farmer's wife was waiting for them there, and she took the unconscious child in her motherly arms, and almost ran up the slope, while the girls followed, Elaine walking with difficulty in her wet clothing, Peggy weak from fear.
Fortunately for them all the suspense was nearly over. For the farmer's wife had hardly begun her work of resuscitation when a soft little sigh escaped from the child's blue lips. A minute after she opened her eyes. Apparently it was too great an effort to be prolonged, for immediately she closed, them again. But the flutter of the lids was enough to render Peggy limp with relief and thankfulness.
"There! There! Have a good cry if you feel like it," exclaimed the farmer's wife, bustling about. "There ain't nothing like a good cry, if anybody's been all keyed up. I'll get some hot milk down her, and she'll be all right. But your friend had better be getting out of her wet things, or she'll be coming down with something. 'Tain't too late yet for pneumonia."
It was a good thing for Peggy to divert her mind with anxiety about Elaine, who, having been duly rubbed and given something hot to drink, was ordered to bed, while her clothing dried by the kitchen fire. By this time Isabel was sufficiently revived so that the other children could be admitted to admire her appearance as she lay between blankets smelling strongly of the ammonia which the farmer's wife had applied to the bee stings. There was a gleam of envy in Estelle's eyes as she gazed upon her sister. It was not fair that Isabel should have everything, first be stung by bees, and then nearly drowned. It would have been more generous of her to have divided those claims to distinction with some equally deserving member of the family.
"Seems like a shame to disturb that child by trying to take her home to-day," said the farmer's wife. "Why don't you leave her with me over Sunday? By that time she wouldn't get any harm from going out."
"I don't know as she would be willing to stay," Peggy replied, but when the case was laid before Isabel she indicated the greatest satisfaction with her present surroundings. Isabel was not accustomed to being a person of importance. She liked the sensation, as she liked the softness of the bed on which she lay and the brightness and neatness of the pleasant little room.
"Of course it would be a great deal better for her to stay. Do you think your mother would mind, Jimmy?" asked Peggy, reflecting that the responsibility of taking a party of children to the country for a day was greater than she could have imagined. Jimmy's attitude was reassuring. "Ma! Why, she'll be glad to get rid of her over Sunday," he declared. "Pa hates so many underfoot on Sundays." It was accordingly arranged that the farmer's wife should bring Isabel home Monday morning, provided Isabel's condition warranted it. Otherwise she was to communicate with Peggy, who assumed the responsibility of conveying the information to Mrs. Dunn.
The picnic was resumed, awaiting the drying of Elaine's clothing, but it is safe to say that no one of the Dunn family had the opportunity again that day to get into mischief. Each girl made herself responsible for a child, and watched it with a hawk's alertness, though not with a hawk's motive. "We've let them steal flowers, and get stung by bees, and then pretty nearly drowned," Amy remarked. "And for one day that's enough," a sentiment received without any dissenting voice.
But in spite of the drawbacks of the day and the fact that Isabel was left behind, the small Dunns were enthusiastic over the picnic. "Be you goin' to take us again some day, Miss Peggy?" little Johnny asked, as he hugged his armful of flowers closer, and smiled at her over the heads of the blossoms.
"I don't know," Peggy answered with a gasp. "I'll have to wait to get thoroughly over this, before I'll be able to make up my mind."