Dunaway declined entering the brick house of the Evans', but remained a respectable distance out, in the field, giving "the confounded jeanses" as his reason. His mind rapidly formulated a plan, on the way back to the Doggett home. Dock impatiently awaited him at the woodpile. "I snooped up thar in Mr. Jeemeses pastur," he whispered, "and seed Miss Nancy a startin' off to church--she's plumb out o' sight by now; now's our time to go ast Miss Lucy fer them pears. I got them clothes ready on the back side Mr. Jeemeses strawstack." The pear tree of Dock's admiration stood in the northeast corner of the orchard, out of range of the porch, and next the garden, from which the orchard was separated by a post-and-rail fence, easily climbed; along the eastern side of the garden and orchard lay a picket fence, over which leaned blackberry bushes on the orchard side, and golden rod on the pasture field side. There was no opening into the pasture field from the orchard, but a small gate led into the grass field from the garden. Miss Lucy James, gathering green beans, looked up to see Dock, accompanied by a tall and good-looking young man, in a neat shirt-waist costume, coming toward her. "This is Ma's cousin, Alfred Bronston, Miss Lucy," said Dock (acting by instructions) by way of introduction. "He's been a workin' fer us a month. He's the one Mr. Lindsay thenks so much of." Miss Lucy's slim hand was very cold when she held it out to Dunaway. "How is Mr. Lindsay, Mr. Bronston?" she asked. "Have you saw him lately?" "He's at our house today," answered Dunaway, "but I'm sorry to say, he is not looking well." "He's awful puny lookin'," exaggerated Dock, still following previous instructions: "Pap says he thenks he's goin' into a recline; his eyes is all sunk in, and he's paler'n a taller candle, and jest wouldn't weigh _nothin'_!" Miss Lucy's heart gave a great plunge, and seemed to stand still: her hand lost its grasp of the basket--the beans were scattered. "Allow me to pick them up, Miss James," said courteous Dunaway, and the knees of dudish Jappy's second best pantaloons went down in the dirt. "Me and Dun--my cousin--" ventured Dock,--"we wanted to git a few pears to eat--jest a little taste, Miss Lucy." "Ef you'll empty the beans on the kitchen table for me, Dock," said Miss Lucy, "you can gather some pears in the basket to take home with you." The words had scarcely left her lips, before Dock was opening the kitchen door in joyful obedience. "Is what Dock says about Mr. Lindsay true, Mr. Bronston?" Miss Lucy's voice trembled over the question. "Well," answered Dunaway, "when a man is in deep trouble, his bodily health is bound to be disturbed, and Mr. Lindsay--" he paused as though reluctant to go on. "What--what is he worryin' about?" fluttered Miss Lucy. Dunaway looked straight at her--an earnest, honest look. "You want me to tell you the truth, Miss James? He thinks he has lost your love."