"
"Thank you," answered Everett with both a laugh and a catch in his
voice as they separated, he going out through the field and over the
hill and Uncle Tucker along the path to the house.
And a little later Uncle Tucker found Rose Mary moving alone knee deep
in the flowers and fruit of her beloved garden. For long moments she
bent over the gray-green, white-starred bed of cinnamon pinks which
sent up an Arabian fragrance into her face as she carefully threaded
out each little weed that had dared rear its head among the white
blossoms. As she walked between the rows the tall lilies laid their
heads against her breast and kissed traces of their gold hearts on her
hands and bare arms, while on the other side a very riot of blush
peonies crowded against her skirts. Long trails of pod-laden snap
beans tangled around her feet and a couple of round young squashes
rolled from their stems at the touch of her fingers. She was the very
incarnation of young Plenty in the garden of the gods, and she reveled
as she worked.
"Rose Mary," said Uncle Tucker as he came and stood beside her as she
began to train the clambering butter-bean vines around their tall
poles, "young Everett has got to go on to New York to-night on the
train from Boliver, and I told him you would be mighty glad to help
him off in time. I'd put him up a middling good size snack if I was
you, for the eating on a train must be mighty scrambled like at best.
We'll have to turn around to keep him from being late.
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