"I think that Mr. Kelly is perfectly delightful," she said as they pursued their way. "So full of fun always." Then she proceeded to tell her captives how many words could be made from the one: c-a-r-p-e-t. Philip and Barney walked around to the front of the Inn and there were Veronica and the unconscious young Herbert, leaning over the sweet-pea bed. Veronica was using the trowel and the boy was weeding. He glanced up under his lashes, then went on with his work. Veronica rose and welcomed the arrivals. "You see, Aunt Priscilla keeps us at it, Mr. Barrison. She isn't going to have your garden neglected, and just look at the buds." "Fine. In another week they'll be a show." "And a smell," said Barney fervently. "I adore them. You look rather sweet-peaish yourself, Miss Veronica," he added, regarding her gingham gown of fine pink-and-white checks. "Do you know you're going to have me on your hands the next few days?" "What's going to happen?" asked Veronica. "There is going to be a dance at the hall to-night," suggested Barney. "I know it," returned Veronica. "Can you dance?" Barney looked at her reproachfully. "It's a land sport. How can you ask? A duck can swim and Kelly can dance. Will you take me? I'm shy." "If Mr. Barrison will allow it," said Veronica with a demure glance at Philip. "Not a word to Puppa. I promise," he said. "What a pity Miss Diana isn't here!" she exclaimed. "I shall see her to-morrow," returned Philip. "You going to Boston?" "'M-h'm." "That's what I'm telling you," said Kelly. "You mustn't allow me to get lonely. We'll row in the cove." "Really go near the water?" replied Veronica, laughing incredulously. "Yes. Aunt Maria is stuffing me like a Thanksgiving turkey. No tennis, I just natchelly had to get a boat--without a motor, be it well understood." "That's fun," said Veronica, her eyes shining. She hoped Philip would stay away indefinitely. "If Mr. Kelly could really dance--" Meanwhile Philip had stood watching the boy's slender hands pulling out weeds. "Aren't you going to speak to me, Bert?" "I--yes. How do you do?" The lad was so used to being overlooked by everybody except Mrs. Lowell and Diana that Philip's question surprised him and he rose and looked at him. "Do you miss Mrs. Lowell and Miss Wilbur?" asked Philip. "Yes." "His uncle has gone, too," said Veronica. "We have had some good times all alone, haven't we, Bert? He is learning to play croquet and he helps me with the garden." The boy regarded her in silence and with no change of expression. Philip thought or imagined that in his dull, undeveloped way he resented the girl's kindly tone of patronage. He caught the lad's eye again. "I am going to see Mrs. Lowell and Miss Wilbur. Would you like to go with me to see them?" Color stole up into Bert's face and he brushed the clinging soil from his hands. "Yes.--No," he said.