“I am going to look for Nicky Dyer. He came with me to show me the spring, and now he has gone to hunt for his cow.”
“And you are going to hunt for him? I hope you won't try it, Miss Frances: a boy on the track of a cow is a very uncertain object in life. Let me call him, if you really must have him.”
“Oh, don't trouble yourself. I suppose he will come after a while. I said I would wait for him here.”
“Then permit me to say that I think you had better do as you promised.”
Miss Frances recrossed the stones, and seated herself, with a faint deprecatory smile.
“I hope you don't mind if I stay,” Arnold said, moving some loose stones to make her seat more comfortable. “You have the prior right to-day, but this is an old haunt of mine. I feel as if I were doing the honors; and to tell you the truth, I am rather used up. The new workings are very hot and the drifts are low. It's a combination of steam-bath and hoeing corn.”
The girl's face cleared, as she looked at him. His thin cheek was pale under the tan, and where his hat was pushed back the hair clung in damp points to his forehead and temples.
“I should be very sorry to drive you away,” she said. “I thought you looked tired. If you want to go to sleep, or anything, I will promise to be very quiet.”
Arnold laughed. “Oh, I'm not such an utter wreck; but I'm glad you can be very quiet. I was afraid you might be a little uproarious at times, you know.”
The girl gave a sudden shy laugh. It was really a giggle, but a very sweet, girlish giggle. It called up a look of keen pleasure to Arnold's face.