But even the delightful lunch, served on a grassy table with every girl holding down her own table cloth, for a light little breeze flirted outrageously with the service—even all this did not tempt the Scouts to tarry long from the delights of the great, wild open; and before the normal eating hour had passed the girls were formed in groups and circles, to suit their individual and collective tastes, and through field and glen their laughter supplied the marching tune.
Nora was clinging to Alma, with a motive. She had seen the great field of corn just behind the Ledge, where fertility could be depended upon, and she was wondering, secretly, if little Lucia might pick weeds out there?
“Could we go over to those gardens?” she asked the leaders, when the other girls had all chosen their points for exploration.
“Why, certainly. I am glad to see that you are interested in real gardens,” replied Miss Beckwith. “Those are called the Italian gardens because Italians work there, not because they bear any resemblance to the wonderful gardens of Italy.”
The temptation was strong within Nora to tell Alma just why she wanted to go up close to the big women with hoes and rakes; but the memory of Lucia’s dark eyes, that looked so like dewy pansies when the child begged: “You will never tell,” that memory sealed Nora’s lips, while she eagerly sought out any small figure that might be that of the little slave of labor.
“I don’t like those horrid women,” said Alma. “Why don’t you want to go over the other way, out into the pretty woodlands, Nora? Come on and let’s run back. I am almost afraid of that ugly creature coming over that dug-up place,” Alma declared.
“I don’t like her, either,” admitted Nora. “I only wanted to see—them work—close by.”
“Going in for scientific gardening when we make you a real Scout?” Alma continued, as they both hurried back to the uncultivated territory. “Lots of girls are trying it, but it’s wickedly hard on the hands.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that, Alma. But I just——” She stopped and looked frankly into Alma’s gray eyes. “Alma,” she began again with an unexpected sigh, “would you think me mean if I asked you to do something to help me without, well, without explaining fully?” she floundered.
“Why, no, certainly not, Nora. You must have good reason for not wanting to confide——”