washing the dishes he
crossed the road to the telephone and telegraph office and called
up the Orham Bank. He meant to get Captain Hunniwell on the wire,
tell him that the house hunters had paid him a visit, that he did
not like them, and beg the captain to call them off the scent. But
Captain Sam had motored to Ostable to attend a preliminary session
of the Exemption Board. Jed sauntered gloomily back to the shop.
When he opened the door and entered he was greeted by a familiar
voice, which said:

"Here he is, Mamma. Good afternoon, Mr. Winslow."

Jed started, turned, and found Miss Barbara Armstrong beaming up at
him. The young lady's attire and general appearance were in marked
contrast to those of the previous evening. Petunia also was in
calling costume; save for the trifling lack of one eye and a chip
from the end of her nose, she would have been an ornament to doll
society anywhere.

"This is my mamma," announced Barbara. "She's come to see you."

"How do you do, Mr. Winslow?" said Mrs. Armstrong.

Jed looked up to find her standing beside him, her hand extended.
Beside a general impression that she was young and that her gown
and hat and shoes were white, he was at that moment too greatly
embarrassed to notice much concerning her appearance. Probably he
did not notice even this until later. However, he took her hand,
moved it up and down, dropped it again and said: "I--I'm pleased to
meet you, ma'am."

She smiled. "And I am very glad to meet you," she said. "It was
very kind of you to bring my little girl home last night and she
and I have come to thank you for doing it."

Jed was more embarrassed than ever.

"Sho, sho!" he protested; "'twasn't anything."

"Oh, yes, it was; it was a great deal. I was getting very worried,
almost frightened. She had been gone ever since luncheon--dinner,
I mean--and I had no idea where. She's a pretty good little girl,
generally speaking," drawing the child close and smiling down upon
her, "but sometimes she is heedless and forgets. Yesterday she
forgot, didn't you, dear?"

Barbara shook her head.

"I didn't forget," she said. "I mean I only forgot a little.
Petunia forgot almost EVERYTHING. I forgot and went as far as the
bridge, but she forgot all the way to the clam field."

Jed rubbed his chin.

"The which field?" he drawled.

"The clam field. The place where Mrs. Smalley's fish man unplants
the clams she makes the chowder of. He does it