The stuff of their repentance was soon to be tested, for the voice of Harkness was heard from over the Harmon fence.

“Oh, Glorianna! there was never such sculptures.  Only want wings.  Hats instead of wings is a little curious even for a funeral monument.”

The two girls stood huddled together now in hasty consultation.  “We didn’t mean to be sculptures,” spoke up Red, defending her brilliant idea almost before she was aware.  “There’s nothing but stand-up slabs here; we thought we’d look something like them.”

“We were so frightened at the men,” said Blue.  They approached the fence as they spoke.

“Those men wouldn’t have done you one mite of harm,” said the dentist, looking down from a height of superior knowledge, “and if they had, I’d have come and made a clearance double quick.”

They did not believe his first assertion, and doubted his ability to have thus routed the enemy, but Blue instinctively replied, “You see, we didn’t know you were here, or of course we shouldn’t have been frightened.”

“Beautiful evening, isn’t it?” remarked the dentist.

“Yes, but I think perhaps,”—­Red spoke doubtfully—­“we ought to be going home now.”

She was a little mortified to find that he saw the full force of the suggestion.

“Yes, I suppose your mother’ll be looking for you.”

They both explained, merely to set him right, that this would not be the case, as they had started to Principal Trenholme’s picnic.

He asked, with great curiosity, why they were not there, and they explained as well as they could, adding, in a little burst of semi-confidence, “It’s rather more fun to talk to you across a fence than sit up and be grand in company.”

He smiled at them good-naturedly.

“Say,” said he, “if your mother let you stay out, ’twas because you were going to be at the Trenholme party.  You’re not getting benefit of clergy here, you know.”

“We’re going;”—­loftily—­“we’re only waiting to be sure there’s no more drunken people.”

“I was just about to remark that I’d do myself the pleasure of escorting you.”

At this they whispered together.  Then, aloud—­“Thank you very much, but we’re not afraid; we’re often out as late in papa’s fields.  We’re afraid mamma wouldn’t like it if you came with us.”

“Wouldn’t she now?” said Harkness.  “Why not?  Is she stuck up?”

Blue felt that a certain romance was involved in acknowledging her parents’ antipathy and her own regret.

“Rather,” she faltered.  “Papa and mamma are rather proud, I’m afraid.”  It was a bold flight of speech; it quite took Red’s breath away.  “And so,”—­Blue sighed as she went on—­“I’m afraid we mustn’t talk to you any more; we’re very sorry.  We—­I’m sure—­we think you are very nice.”

Her feeling tone drew from him a perfectly sincere reply, “So I am; I’m really a very nice young man.  My mother brought me up real well.”  He added benevolently, “If you’re scared of the road, come right through my place here, and I’ll set you on your own farm double quick.”