“Chum knows the hesitation, all right,” observed Mark.
Florimel caught Mary as she came and swayed her in a mad dance of her own devising.
“Mrs. Moulton knew your father! Mr. Moulton is going to love you for old botany’s sake. I’ve been lucky fishing to-day!” Florimel chanted. “And to-morrow you’ll go to see Mr. Moulton, and I’m going to give Chum a bath.”
Mark laughed, and looked admiringly at her brilliant beauty.
“What is it about helping lame dogs over stiles? That’s been your job to-day, Miss Gypsy Florimel!”
“We always have nice times,” said Mary, as if good luck for Mark and rescue of Chum had been her personal gain. “Come into the house.”
“Such a kindly, motherly house; I love it,” said Mark.
“It’s the greenhouse, you know, for us Garden slips, so it has to be warm and sort of hospitable,” Jane reminded him.
They all passed in through the wide door, into the broad hall, and the light from the bend of the wide staircase fell on four happy young faces, and, Mark rightly thought, on three of the prettiest girls he had ever seen together.
“It’s a lucky greenhouse with its specimens,” he said shyly, but with a smile at Mary.