Still, in spite of her sharp tongue and her fondness for teasing him,
Walt liked Dolly better than any of the girls from the city who were
staying on the farm, and he was always glad to welcome her when she
appeared where he was working, even though she interrupted his work, and
made it necessary for him to stick to his job after the others were
through in order to make up for lost time. But Dolly had little use for
him, in spite of his obvious devotion, which all the other girls had
noticed. And this time his silence didn't save him from another sharp
thrust.

"Goin' to that ice-cream festival over to the Methodist Church at Deer
Crossin' to-night?" she asked him, trying to imitate his peculiar
country accent.

"I'm aimin' to," he said uncomfortably. "You said you was goin' to let
me take you. Isn't that so?"

"Oh, yes--I suppose so," she said, tossing her head again. "But I never
said I'd let you bring me home, did I? Maybe I'll find some one over
there I like better to come home with."

Walter didn't answer, which proved that, young as he was, and
inexperienced in the ways of city girls like Dolly, he was learning
fast. But just then a bell sounded from the farm, and the girls dropped
their pitchforks quickly.

"Dinner time!" cried Margery Burton, happily. "Come on down, you two,
and we'll go over to that big tree and eat our dinner in the shade.
Walter, if you'll go and fetch us a pail of water from the spring, we'll
have dinner ready when you get back. And I bet you'll be surprised when