She accepted it with a smile.

"Is it for me? Oh, Larry, how nice of you! Am I to wear it?"

"If ye loike!" This with another grin.

She set it on her uncovered head and became at once a model for a
Romney; the wild roses with their delicate pink and white against
her brown hair suited the hues of her complexion and the tender
grey of her eyes;--and when, thus adorned, she looked up at her
companion, he was fain to turn away quickly lest his admiration
should be too plainly made manifest before profane witnesses.

Roger, meanwhile, was being harnessed to the waggon. He was a
handsome creature of his kind, and he knew it. As he turned his
bright soft glance from side to side with a conscious pride in
himself and his surroundings, he seemed to be perfectly aware that
the knots of bright red ribbon tied in his long and heavy mane
meant some sort of festival. When all was done the haymakers
gathered round.

"Good luck to the last load, Mr. Clifford!" they shouted.

"Good luck to you all!" answered Robin, cheerily.

"Good luck t'ye, Miss!" and they raised their sun-browned faces to
the girl as she looked down upon them. "As fine a crop and as fair
a load next year!"

"Good luck to you!" she responded--then suddenly bending a little