Mrs. Richards took a seat, wiping her face on her apron. "Wal, I don't know about that, when it comes to waiting and tendin' on a mess of 'em; it don't edgicate a feller much. Does it, Art?" "We don't do it for play, exactly," he replied, taking a seat on the porch steps and smiling up at Edith. "I can't stand cows; I like horses, though. Of course, if I were foreman of the dairy, that would be another thing." The flowerlike girl looked down at him with a strange glance. Something rose in her heart which sobered her. She studied the clear brown of his face and the white of his forehead, where his hat shielded it from the sun and the wind. The spread of his strong neck, where it rose from his shoulders, and the clutch of his brown hands attracted her. "How strong you look!" she said musingly. He laughed up at her in frank delight. "Well, I'm not out here for my health exactly, although when I came here I was pretty tender. I was just out of college, in fact," he said, glad of the chance to let her know that he was not an ignorant workingman. She looked surprised and pleased. "Oh, you're a college man! I have two brothers at Yale. One of them plays half-back or short-stop, or something. Of course you played?" "Baseball? Yes, I was pitcher for '88." He heaved a sigh. He could not think of those blessed days without sorrow. "Oh, I didn't mean baseball. I meant football." "We don't play that much in the West. We go in more for baseball. More science." "Oh, I like football best, it's so lively. I like to see them when they get all bunched up, they look so funny, and then when some fellow gets the ball under his arms and goes shooting around, with the rest all jumping at him. Oh, oh, it's exciting!" She smiled, and her teeth shone from her scarlet lips with a more familiar expression than he had seen on her face before. Some wall of reserve had melted away, and they chatted on with growing freedom. "Well, Edith, are you ready?" asked the Major, coming up. Arthur sprang up as if he suddenly remembered that he was a workingman. Edith rose also. "Yes, all ready, uncle." "Well, we'll be going in a minute.--Mr. Ramsey, do you think that millet has got water enough?" "For the present, yes. The ground is not so dry as it looks." As they talked on about the farm, Mrs. Richards brought out a glass of milk for the Major. Arthur, with nice calculation, unhitched the horse and brought it around while the Major was detained. "May I help you in, Miss Newell?" She gave him her hand with a frank gesture, and the Major reached the cart just as she was taking the lines from Arthur. "Are you coming?" she gayly cried. "If not, I'll drive home by myself." "You mean you'll hold the lines." "No, sir. I can drive if I have a chance." "That's what the American girl is saying these days. She wants to hold the lines." "Well, I'm going to begin right now and drive all the way home."