"Allow me to pick them up, Miss James," said courteous Dunaway, and the knees of dudish Jappy's second best pantaloons went down in the dirt.
"Me and Dun—my cousin—" ventured Dock,—"we wanted to git a few pears to eat—jest a little taste, Miss Lucy."
"Ef you'll empty the beans on the kitchen table for me, Dock," said Miss Lucy, "you can gather some pears in the basket to take home with you."
The words had scarcely left her lips, before Dock was opening the kitchen door in joyful obedience.
"Is what Dock says about Mr. Lindsay true, Mr. Bronston?" Miss Lucy's voice trembled over the question.
"Well," answered Dunaway, "when a man is in deep trouble, his bodily health is bound to be disturbed, and Mr. Lindsay—" he paused as though reluctant to go on.
"What—what is he worryin' about?" fluttered Miss Lucy.
Dunaway looked straight at her—an earnest, honest look.
"You want me to tell you the truth, Miss James? He thinks he has lost your love."
When Dock came back, Miss Lucy pointed to the pear tree.