her.

A thunder-shower came up while the girls were at Carmody; it did
not last long, however, and the drive home, through lanes where the
raindrops sparkled on the boughs and little leafy valleys where the
drenched ferns gave out spicy odors, was delightful. But just as they
turned into the Cuthbert lane Anne saw something that spoiled the beauty
of the landscape for her.

Before them on the right extended Mr. Harrison's broad, gray-green field
of late oats, wet and luxuriant; and there, standing squarely in the
middle of it, up to her sleek sides in the lush growth, and blinking at
them calmly over the intervening tassels, was a Jersey cow!

Anne dropped the reins and stood up with a tightening of the lips that
boded no good to the predatory quadruped. Not a word said she, but she
climbed nimbly down over the wheels, and whisked across the fence before
Diana understood what had happened.

"Anne, come back," shrieked the latter, as soon as she found her voice.
"You'll ruin your dress in that wet grain . . . ruin it. She doesn't hear
me! Well, she'll never get that cow out by herself. I must go and help
her, of course."

Anne was charging through the grain like a mad thing. Diana hopped
briskly down, tied the horse securely to a post, turned the skirt of her
pretty gingham dress over her shoulders, mounted the fence, and started
in pursuit of her frantic friend. She could run faster than Anne, who
was hampered by her clinging and drenched skirt, and soon overtook her.
Behind them they left a trail that would break Mr. Harrison's heart when
he should see it.

"Anne, for mercy's sake, stop," panted poor Diana. "I'm right out of
breath and you are wet to the skin."

"I must . . . get . . . that cow . . . out . . . before . . . Mr.
Harrison . . . sees her," gasped Anne. "I don't . . . care . . . if I'm
. . . drowned . . . if we . . . can . . . only . . . do that."

But the Jersey cow appeared to see no good reason for being hustled out
of her luscious browsing ground. No sooner had the two breathless girls
got near her than she turned and bolted squarely for the opposite corner
of the field.

"Head her off," screamed Anne. "Run, Diana, run."

Diana did run. Anne tried to, and the wicked Jersey went around the
field as if she were possessed. Privately, Diana thought she was. It was
fully ten minutes before they headed her off and drove her through the
corner gap into the Cuthbert lane.

There is no denying that