"That's right, I think the same way and try to act up to it," a man's voice said slowly. "But don't let her hear you say so." Pearl started at the sound of the voice and found herself looking into such a good-natured face that she laughed too, with a feeling of good-fellowship. The old dog ran to the stranger with every sign of delight at seeing him. "I am one of the neighbours," he said. "I live over there"--pointing to a little car-roofed shanty farther up the creek. "Did I frighten you? I am sorry if I did, but you see I like the sentiment of your song so much I could not help telling you. You need not think it strange if you find me milking one of the cows occasionally. You see, I believe in dealing directly with the manufacturer and thus save the middleman's profit, and so I just take what milk I need from So-Bossie over there." "Does she know?" Pearl asked, nodding toward the house. "Who? So-Bossie?" "No, Mrs. Motherwell." "Well, no," he answered slowly. "You haven't heard of her having a fit, have you?" "No," Pearl answered wonderingly. "Then we're safe in saying that the secret has been kept from her." "Does it hurt her, though?" Pearl asked. "It would, very much, if she knew it," the young man replied gravely. "Oh, I mean the cow," Pearl said hastily. "It doesn't hurt the cow a bit. What does she care who gets the milk? When did you come?" "To-night," Pearl said. "I must hurry. She'll have a rod in steep for me if I'm late. My name's Pearl Watson. What's yours?" "Jim Russell," he said. "I know your brother Teddy." Pearl was speeding down the hill. She shouted back: "I know who you are now. Good-bye!" Pearl ran to catch up to the cows, for the sun was throwing long shadows over the pasture, and the plaintive lowing of the hungry calves came faintly to her ears. A blond young man stood at the bars with four milk pails. He raised his hat when he spoke to Pearl. "Madam says you are to help me to milk, but I assure you it is quite unnecessary. Really, I would much prefer that you shouldn't." "Why?" Pearl asked in wonder. "Oh, by Jove! You see it is not a woman's place to work outside like this, don't you know." "That's because ye'r English," Pearl said, a sudden light breaking in on her. "Ma says when ye git a nice Englishman there's nothing nicer, and pa knowed one once that was so polite he used to say 'Haw Buck' to the ox and then he'd say, 'Oh, I beg yer pardon, I mean gee.' It wasn't you, was it?" "No," he said smiling, "I have never driven oxen, but I have done a great many ridiculous things I am sure." "So have I," Pearl said confidentially, as she sat down on a little three-legged stool to milk So-Bossie. "You know them fluffy white things all made of lace and truck like that, that is hung over the beds in rich people's houses, over the pillows, I mean?" "Pillow-shams?" he asked.