"She's a-busy," said Johnnie, wriggling uncomfortably.
"Ah,—killing something, I presume. Is it going to keep fine for the next three or four weeks?"
"I don' think."
"You don't, you little rascal?"
"You might do your best for us, Johnnie," said Miss Penny, as they came through the gap in the wall. "And if it keeps fine all the time I'll give you—let me see, I'll give you a shilling when we go away."
Johnnie's avidious little claw reached out eagerly.
"Godzamin!" said he. "Gimme it now, an' I'll do my best."
"Earn it, my child," said Miss Penny, and they went on up the road, leaving Johnnie scowling in the hedge.
"Well, where would you like to go to-day?" asked Graeme. "Will you leave yourselves in my hands again?"
"I'm sure we can't do better," said Miss Penny heartily. "Yesterday was a day of days. What do you say, Meg?"