We walked to the road, but to my surprise she did not turn toward the village but toward Bert’s. A sudden light came.
“Are you the broken-down boarder?” I cried.
The gurgle welled up, and the blue eyes twinkled, but she made no reply.
“Just for that,” said I, “I won’t carry back Mrs. Bert’s basket.”
As we entered the Temple’s yard, Mrs. Bert stood in the kitchen door.
“Well, you two seem to have got acquainted,” she remarked in a matter-of-fact tone. “Miss Goodwin, this is Mr. Upton I told you about. Mr. Upton, this is Miss Goodwin I told you about.”
“Mrs. Temple,” said I, “you are another. You didn’t tell me.”
“Young man,” she retorted, “where’s my basket?”
“I left it behind–on purpose,” said I.
“Then you’ll hev ter come home to yer dinner to-morrow,” she said.