But in June there was nothing to gather, so the girls who had brought well-filled lunch baskets and books with which to while away the time, gave themselves up to what Olive called "a thorough laze." Seating themselves in characteristic fashion, Monica and Olive up amongst the low-spreading branches of an old oak, while Amethyst and Elsa chose the grassy hillocks caused by its roots, the quartette soon opened their baskets, and the contents disappeared with startling rapidity. As Monica said, "the river smelt quite sea-i-fied," and gave them an extra good appetite; indeed, if it had not been for Elsa, poor Hero, the collie, who Mrs. Beauchamp had suggested should accompany the girls for protection’s sake, would have fared badly. However, he managed to make a very good meal, and was lying down fast asleep in the shade, while the girls, whose tongues had grown tired with talking, were either reading, or lying curled up half asleep on the grassy slope, gazing dreamily at the river, as it flowed smoothly and silently on, when they were all aroused by a short sharp bark, followed by a low growl, and Hero had bounded up the slope to a path which ran along at the top, and which was one of the least frequented paths in the wood. "Whatever can he see?" cried Monica; "a rabbit, I expect." "Oh, call him back, Monica, do! Perhaps he will do some mischief," said Elsa. "Nonsense! He’s only chasing a rabbit or a bird." But even as she spoke there came the sound of feeble crying, as of some one in trouble, and all four girls dropped their books, and ran swiftly up the incline. Arrived there they found Hero, who was still growling at intervals, sniffing suspiciously at a large bundle, done up in a red cotton handkerchief, which was lying on the path: and a few steps away, a poor old body, in a quaint poke bonnet and black shawl, was holding herself up with one hand on the limb of an ash tree, while her other, all knotted with rheumatism, was grasping a stout walking-stick. Her gown bore traces of Hero’s paws, and it was evident from her panting and half-sobbing breath that she had been very much upset. As the girls drew near she raised her stick and shook it at the dog, crying, "Oh, the beast, the beast, the wicked beast!" while Monica caught hold of Hero by his collar and dragged him away from the bundle which had great attractions for him. The situation was not without its comical side, and Olive and Monica, seeing no tragedy in it, both began to titter quite audibly. "Ah, you may laugh; mebbe ’tis nothin’ but sport to young leddies like you," cried the little old woman, as she glanced angrily at them. "But ’tis a sorry thing for me; I’m fair shattered wi’ fright." [Illustration: "’AH, YOU MAY LAUGH; MEBBE ’TIS NOTHIN’ BUT SPORT TO YOUNG LEDDIES LIKE YOU.’"] "Poor old thing!" whispered Amethyst to Elsa; "see how she is shuddering still. I should have been afraid of Hero myself, if he had suddenly bounced upon me."