Later, having settled the preliminaries of the race, David sauntered forth with a hazy notion of looking up Jimmy and taking him up to the grand stand. To this end he walked slowly through the agricultural “pavilion,” with its exhibits of mammoth vegetables and pyramids of red, green, and russet fruit; but nowhere did he catch a glimpse of Jimmy’s yellow head topped with its scarlet tam. There was a crowd of women in the next place of exhibition, where the pine and canvas walls were covered with quilts of wonderful and complicated design, varied with areas of painted tapestries, home-made lace, worsted and crochet work; while the narrow shelves below were occupied with brown loaves, raised biscuit, and frosted cakes, interspersed with jellies of brilliant hues and luscious fruits preserved in lucent syrups. There were many children here, clinging to maternal hands and skirts; but no Jimmy. “Little nuisance,” muttered David irritably. “He ought to have stayed where I told him to.” He was elbowing his way through a group of women engaged in an excited discussion concerning the merits of two rival lace counterpanes, when a small figure placed itself directly in his path. He stopped short and looked down into the babyish blue eyes uplifted timidly to his. “Why, hello, Jennie!” he said, smiling. “Where did you come from?” The girl was very becomingly dressed in dark-blue serge, the jacket thrown jauntily wide, revealing a waist of cheap white lace, which in its turn permitted glimpses of the pink skin and rounded contours beneath. A hat of dark-blue straw, wreathed with small pink roses, rested coquettishly on her light-brown curly hair. At the moment of meeting David thus unexpectedly, the light of youth and love shone vividly over the girl’s insignificant face and figure, irradiating them into a beauty almost noble. David could hardly help noticing the half infantile, wholly adorable curve of her young brows and the clear blue light of the eyes beneath. Then his curious eyes slowly swept the soft oval of pink cheek and the rosy mouth, parted a little to ease the tumultuous heart-beats which shook the transparent stuff at her throat. “I didn’t know as you’d want to speak to me, Mr. Whitcomb,” murmured the girl. Her eyes wandered uncertainly past him into the crowd. “I s’pose,” she added, thrusting out her pink lips in a pout, “that _she’s_ here somewheres.” “No,” laughed David. “‘She’ doesn’t happen to be along to-day.” A wayward impulse prompted his next words. “What do you think, Jennie? I asked her and she wouldn’t come with me.” “Wouldn’t come—with you?” The girl’s voice held wonder, incredulity, longing. Her eyes said more. “You wouldn’t treat me that way, would you, Jennie?” The girl looked down, an unsuspected delicacy sealing her lips. David looked at the pretty shadowy circle of the long lashes on the smooth pink cheek. “You wouldn’t; now, would you, Jennie?” he persisted.