Cringing before the necessity, she went out. The Piper did not see her until she was very near him, then, startled in his turn, he said, "Oh!" and took off his hat.
"Good-morning, madam," he went on, making a low bow. She noted that the tip of his red feather brushed the ground. "What can I do for you, more than I'm doing now?"
"It is about that," stammered Evelina, "that I came. You must not work in my garden."
"Surely," said the Piper, "you don't mean that! Would you have it all weeds? And 't is hard work for such as you."
"I—I—" answered Miss Evelina, almost in a whisper; "I have no money."
The Piper laughed heartily and put on his hat again. "Neither have I," he said, between bursts of seemingly uncalled-for merriment, "and probably I'm the only man in these parts who's not looking for it. Did you think I'd ask for pay for working in the garden?"
His tone made her feel that she had misjudged him and she did not know what to say in reply.
"Laddie and I have no garden of our own," he explained, "and so we're digging in yours. The place wants cleaning, for 't is a long time since any one cared enough for it to dig. I was passing, and I saw a place I thought I could make more pleasant. Have I your leave to try?"
"Why—why, yes," returned Miss Evelina, slowly. "If you'd like to, I don't mind."
He dismissed her airily, with a wave of his hand, and she went back into the house, never once turning her head.