he
plants. At sight of her he paused, straightened his back and leaned upon
his hoe.

"Oh, are _you_ here?" said Miss Jean in tones of extreme surprise.
Chetwood looked down at his feet, tapped his head and finally pinched
himself.

"Rather," he announced gravely. "At least my mortal body seems to be."

"Don't let me interrupt you," said Miss Jean. "I came to pick peas."

"I'll help you."

"I don't require help, thanks."

"You might get thorns in your fingers."

"Peas haven't thorns!" said Miss Jean scathingly. "You ought to know
that by this time."

"Observation has taught me that in this world one finds thorns in the
most unexpected places. Even roses--fragrant, blushing roses--"

"Don't be absurd!"

"Then let me help you pick peas."

"But the garden needs hoeing."

"The bally thing always needs hoeing," Chetwood commented with deep
resentment. "It has an insatiable desire to be tickled with a hoe. What
a world it would be if weeds would die as easily as plants, and plants
thrive as carelessly as weeds. Bright thought, what?"

"Nonsense!" said Miss Jean.

"Oh, I say! It's really profound."

"It's profoundly silly. You had better stick to the hoe."

"My back is broken."

"Well," Miss Jean relented, "you may help me if you like."

On either side of tall vines trained on brush they began to pick the
big, fat Telephones. Now and then, in the tangle of the vines, their
fingers touched, as both reached for the same pod.

"This beats hoeing," Chetwood announced.

"I'm afraid you're lazy."

"I am. I always was. But to help a girl, especially a pret--"

"If you are going to be silly I shall go to the other end of the row."

"'O stay,' the young man said, 'and rest thy weary head up--'"

Miss Jean promptly picked up the pan and marched to the other end of the
row. Chetwood followed her.

"They _are_ better here," he said. "It's a genuine pleasure to pick such
peas together." Miss Jean did not reply. "Don't you like to pick peas
with me?"

"When you talk sensibly I don't object. There, the pan's full. Thanks
very much."

"And now we'll shell them."

"I'll take them to the house to shell."

"Please don't. Here is shade, running water, the company of an
industrious young man. You can't overlook a combination like that--if
you have a heart."

"It _is_ nice shade," Miss Jean admitted.

They sat in it, the pan piled with peas between them, and began to
shell. Miss Jean's hand diving for a pe