Walter didn’t answer, which proved that, young as he was, and inexperienced in the ways of city girls like Dolly, he was learning fast.  But just then a bell sounded from the farm, and the girls dropped their pitchforks quickly.

“Dinner time!” cried Margery Burton, happily.  “Come on down, you two, and we’ll go over to that big tree and eat our dinner in the shade.  Walter, if you’ll go and fetch us a pail of water from the spring, we’ll have dinner ready when you get back.  And I bet you’ll be surprised when you see what we’ve got, too—­something awfully good.  We got Mrs. Farnham to let us put up the best lunch you ever saw!”

“Yes you did!” gibed Walter.  He wasn’t half as much afraid of Margery and the other girls who never teased him, as he was of Dolly Ransom, and he didn’t like them as well, either.  Perhaps it was just because Dolly made a point of teasing him that he was so fond of her.  But he picked up the pail, obediently enough, and went off.  When he was out of hearing Bessie shook her finger reproachfully at Dolly.

“I thought you were going to be good and not tease Walter any more!” she said, half smiling.

“Oh, he’s so stupid—­it’s just fun to tease him, and he’s so easy that I just can’t help it,” said Dolly.

“I don’t think he’s stupid—­I think he’s a very nice boy,” said Bessie.  “Don’t you, Margery!”

“I certainly do, Bessie—­much too nice for a little flirt like Dolly to torment him the way she does.”

“Well, if you two like him so much you can have him, and welcome!” cried Dolly, tossing her head.  “I’m sure I don’t want him tagging around after me all the time the way he does.”

“Better be careful, Dolly,” advised Margery, who knew her of old.  “They say pride goes before a fall, and if you’re not nice to him you may have to come home from the festival tonight without a beau—­and you know you wouldn’t like that.”

“I’d just as soon not have a beau at all as have some of these boys around here,” declared Dolly, pugnaciously.  “I like the country, but I don’t see why the people have to be so stupid.  They’re not half as bright as the ones we know in the city.”

“I don’t know about that, Dolly.  Bessie’s from the country, but I think she’s as bright as most of the people in the city.  They haven’t been able to fool her very much since she left Hedgeville, you know.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean Bessie!” cried Dolly, throwing her arms around Bessie’s neck affectionately.  “You know I didn’t, don’t you, dear?  And I’m only joking about half the time anyhow, when I say things like that.”

“Here comes Walter now—­we’ll see whether he doesn’t admit that this is the best dinner he ever ate in the fields!” said Margery.

It was, too.  There was no doubt at all about that.  There were cold chicken, and rolls, and plenty of fresh butter, and new milk, and hard boiled eggs, that the girls had stuffed, and a luscious blueberry pie that Bessie herself had been allowed to bake in the big farm kitchen.  They made a great dinner of it, and Walter was loud in his praises.