were there. "I'll tell you what you can do for me," I said, with a sudden
inspiration about getting rid of him, for the red-headed Peckerwood had
promised to come and put some kind of hoodoo earth around the peonies and
irises and pinks in my garden, also to bud some kind of a new rose on one
of the old blush ones, and I wanted the place quiet so he would venture
out of his lair. "You can go on to town and look after Polly carefully. She
is going in with Bess for the first time since their infatuation, and I
want her eyes to open gradually on the world out over Paradise Ridge."

"Ann, ought they ever to open?" asked Matthew, suddenly, with the color
coming up to the roots of his hair and burning in his ears like it still
does in Bud Corn-tassel's when he comes over to see or help me or to bring
me something from Aunt Mary, his mother. "Bess is one of the best of
friends I've got in the world, but I just--just couldn't see Corn-tassel
dancing in some man's arms in the mere hint of an evening gown that Bess
occupied while fox-trotting with Evan Baldwin at the club the other night."

"Who was the belle of the ball, Matt?" I asked him, with a flame in my
cheeks, for the pink and lavender chiffon gown Bess had worn was one of
the Voudaine creations that I had brought from Paris and sold her after the
crash.

"Oh, Bess always is when you are not there and, Ann, don't for a moment
think that I--I--" Poor Matthew was stuttering while I rubbed the tip of my
nose against his sleeve in the way of a caress, as I had a feed-bucket in
one hand and a water-pan in the other.

"Do go and shop with Polly and Bess as a force for protection. I must have
a quiet afternoon to commune with my garden," I commanded.