Bob, on the old mare’s back, and Jarvis, at the bits of the young horse, were bringing back the plough undamaged by its brisk career across the field.  Jarvis certainly presented a somewhat incongruous appearance in his afternoon attire, as he plunged along the furrows in foot-gear not intended for locomotion over freshly ploughed land.  Jake rose to his feet, answering the queries of Ferry at his side as to his fitness for continuing work with a decided:  “Sure I am.  Sha’n’t get even with myself for that fool trick till I’ve done a good dozen furrows.  You don’t ketch that there pair o’hosses gittin’ away from Jake Kelly again this day!”

“The rescue party may as well go back to the teacups,” observed Jarvis, as the whole group, standing partly on the one and partly on the other side of the rail fence, watched the now subdued team take a fresh start under the guidance of a vigilant driver with a large bump on the back of his head, which he had refused to have treated in any way but with contempt.

Saying which, Jarvis mounted the fence—­tearing a slight rent near the hem of his trousers-leg because he was not looking where he went.  He had been observing the effect of the now brilliant sunshine on an uncovered fair head, and in the fashion of Jake he accepted the proffered sympathy of Bob on the disaster to his clothing with a murmured:  “Serves me right for not attending strictly to business.”

The company marched back in more orderly ranks than it had come forth.  Max found himself by the side of Constance Carew, and discovered that she had quite as strong a sense of humour as Janet Ferry, for she described to him most amusingly the way in which the four girls had abandoned all concern for their afternoon finery, and had rushed forth prepared to help bear a stretcher down a wet ploughed field, or share in dashing about in the attempt to catch the runaway team.

“This is what comes,” said he, in reply, and looking around at Sally with mirth in his eye, “of trying to be fashionable on a farm.”

“Trying to be fashionable!” cried Sally, behind him, catching the words.  “I was merely trying to be hospitable.  But Fate evidently didn’t mean I should be either.  Twice in one afternoon!”

“Let’s go back and turn the tea-drinking into a musicale,” suggested Ferry.  “I know my sister is longing to get her hands on the piano.”

“You shouldn’t propose to have your own family perform,” Janet reproached her brother.

“Why shouldn’t I?  I haven’t heard you play for two years, nor Constance sing for three.  No false modesty shall keep me from demanding to be satisfied.”

“I heard somebody telling somebody else I had dusted the piano five times to-day,” said Sally, as she led the way in, “and I surely ought to be rewarded for such care as that.”