"Did he have his pipe?" asked Polly, anxiously.
"No, he looked around at every step as if to make sure no one was following him."
"Dear me! I promised John I'd keep my eye on him!" cried Polly, distressed beyond words.
"What's the matter? I can show you where he went," said Eleanor, comfortingly.
So she led Polly to the place where Jeb had left the road and turned down to the shrubbery walk. The two girls walked over the soft sod that gave forth no sound, and quite suddenly came upon a scene that caused Eleanor to crush her handkerchief into her mouth to choke her laughter, while Polly stood speechless.
Sary sat in the hammock, one foot used to propel herself gently back and forth. The newly-acquired striped dress was such a tight fit for her rubicund form, that it cracked ominously every time the wearer took a deep breath. But the short-coming of the two fronts over her ample bosom was camouflaged with the plaid ribbon and many pins. The corsage bouquet was tucked high under her chin where it would show most.
It was not very dark as yet, so the girls could see how dreadfully white Sary seemed to be, and her lips were startlingly crimson. Suddenly Eleanor guessed the truth.
"She's gone and used Bob's powder and rouge! Oh, how funny!"
Then, before either one of the accidental eaves-droppers could say another word, Sary perked her head sideways, like a hen does when it hears a strange sound. She quickly frizzed up her hair by ruffing it backwards, and patted the ribbon on her waist-front, then gently used her foot again to propel the hammock back and forth.
Gradually it dawned upon Polly and Eleanor what all this meant! They could see Jeb coming from behind the lilac bushes, some ten feet away from the swinger. He seemed ill at ease, and loosened his stiff collar, pulled down his vest, and cleared his throat several times.