“Boss, am I?  I’ll soon find out.  Mr. Minturn, come with me and don a pair of overalls.  You shan’t put me to shame, wearing that spick-and-span suit, neither shall you spoil it.  Oh, you’re in for it now!  You might have escaped, and come another day, when I could have received you in state and driven you out behind father’s frisky bays.  When you return to town with blistered hands and aching bones, you will at least know better another time.”

“I don’t know any better this time, and just yearn for those overalls.”

“To the house, then, and see mother before you become a wreck.”

Farmer Banning looked after him and shook his head.  Hiram spoke his employer’s thought, “Dar ar gem’lin act like he gwine ter set hisself out on dis farm.”

Sue had often said, “I can never be remarkable for anything; but I won’t be commonplace.”  So she did not leave her guest in the parlor while she rushed off for a whispered conference with her mother.  The well-bred simplicity of her manner, which often stopped just short of brusqueness, was never more apparent than now.  “Mother!” she called from the parlor door.

The old lady gave a few final directions to her maid-of-all-work, and then appeared.

“Mother, this is Mr. Minturn, one of my city friends, of whom I have spoken to you.  He is bent on helping me set out trees.”

“Yes, Mrs. Banning, so bent that your daughter found that she would have to employ her dog to get me off the place.”

Now, it had so happened that in discussing with her mother the young men whom she had met, Sue had said little about Mr. Minturn; but that little was significant to the experienced matron.  Words had slipped out now and then which suggested that the girl did more thinking than talking concerning him; and she always referred to him in some light which she chose to regard as ridiculous, but which had not seemed in the least absurd to the attentive listener.  When her husband, therefore, said that Mr. Minturn had appeared on the scene, she felt that an era of portentous events had begun.  The trees to be set out would change the old place greatly, but a primeval forest shading the door would be as nothing compared with the vicissitude which a favored “beau” might produce.  But mothers are more unselfish than fathers, and are their daughters’ natural allies unless the suitor is objectionable.  Mrs. Banning was inclined to be hospitable on general principles, meantime eager on her own account to see something of this man, about whom she had presentiments.  So she said affably, “My daughter can keep her eye on the work which she is so interested in, and yet give you most of her time.—­Susan, I will entertain Mr. Minturn while you change your dress.”

She glanced at her guest dubiously, receiving for the moment the impression that the course indicated by her mother was the correct one.  The resolute admirer knew well what a fiasco the day would be should the conventionalities prevail, and so said promptly:  “Mrs. Banning, I appreciate your kind intentions, and I hope some day you may have the chance to carry them out.  To-day, as your husband understands, I am a tramp from the city looking for work.  I have found it, and have been engaged.—­Miss Banning, I shall hold you inflexibly to our agreement—­a pair of overalls and dinner.”