The boy looked down. "Pauline just cried and cried," he said in a low
tone. "I _liked_ Pauline! She was awful good to me. I--I heard her
crying afterwards as she went away. Seemed to me I could hear her
crying all the way out here."

"Did she go away?" asked Judith, trying to make something coherent out
of the story. Arnold nodded.

"You bet she did. Madrina turned her right out--and old Rollins too."

"Was _he_ there? What was the matter anyhow?" Judith persisted.

Arnold twisted uncomfortably, loath to continue bringing up the scene.
"I d'n know what was the matter. Yes, old Rollins was there, all
right. He's gone away too, the doggoned old thing--for good. That's
_something_!" He added, "Aw, quit talkin' about it, can't you! Let's
play!"

"It's my turn to help Mother with the tomatoes," said Judith. "She's
doing the last of the canning this morning. Maybe she'd let you help."

Arnold brightened. "Maybe she would!" he said, adding eagerly, "Maybe
she'd tell us another of the stories about her grandmother."

Judith snatched at his hand and began racing down the path to the
garden. "Maybe she would!" she cried. They both called as they ran,
"Mother, _oh_, Mother!" and as they ran, they leaped and bounded into
the bright autumn air like a couple of puppies.