Sidney nodded. The boy's shrewdness in thus taking advantage of an unusual opportunity pleased her. Billy would never let chances pass him by as they had passed his poor father. Kate's behavior was always a reflection of Billy's, and there now came a lull. But Sidney did not relax her vigilance in the least, and still sat immovable on the tub with the broom resting on her shoulder like a sentinel's bayonet. The children, more than ever wondering, though silently, did not return to their game, but clung to the shelter of the cherry tree, excitedly peering round it in growing wonder at their mother's unaccountable conduct. The little group now made a singular spectacle, one so very singular indeed, that no neighbor could think of passing without inquiry. Fortunately, however, no one went along the big road for several minutes. Meantime Sidney, sitting bolt upright and rigid on the tub, with her back to the house, and with her eye on the children, and the broom over her shoulder, ready for action, followed with her keen ears everything going on in the room. She heard the deep tones of the young man's dominant voice, and the soft murmur of Doris's shy replies. She knew by the sounds when the two young people went out of the house to look at the morning-glories, although the vines were on the other side of the house and quite out of her sight. Thence she traced them with intent listening, though she could not hear what they said, to the trellis over the garden gate, now richly hung with the mauve beauty and sweetness of the virgin's-bower. And then into the garden among the sunflowers and hollyhocks and columbine and larkspur and heartsease and the riot of June roses, common enough, yet gay and sweet as the rarest. Sidney could tell just where they paused as they wandered about the little garden; now they were looking at the sweet-williams, now at the spice-pinks, and now they were bending over the bunch of bleeding-heart, with its delicate waxen sprays of pink and white hearts--strung in rows like a coquette's cruel trophies. To Sidney, thus keenly, alertly keeping track, everything seemed going well; Billy and Kate too now moved quietly as though to return to their game of mumble-peg, so that, almost reassured, she was about to lower the broom, when she was disturbed by hearing her name called. She sprang up, motioning with the broom, signalling the children to be still, and turned to see the doctor's wife leaning over the fence, and beckoning to her. "What on earth is the matter?" asked that lady. "I've been watching you from my porch--" She broke off, falling silent, at an energetic, imperative gesture from Sidney, and she moved along down the line of the fence, farther away from the garden, in response to Sidney's mysterious signals. "Hush. Speak low," said Sidney, bending over the fence and speaking herself in a hoarse whisper, "Doris has got a _beau_!"