I beg your pardon if I 've hurt your feelings . '' `` Oh , it is n't that , '' sobbed Mrs. Hayden , wiping away her tears . `` It 's only -- I 've tried so hard -- and everything seems to go wrong . I make such mistakes . As for your garden , sir . I 'll pay for the damage my pigs have done if you 'll let me know what it comes to . '' She sobbed again and caught her breath like a grieved child . Harrington felt like a brute . He had a queer notion that if he put his arm around her and told her not to worry over things women were not created to attend to he would be expressing his feelings better than in any other way . But of course he could n't do that . Instead , he muttered that the damage did n't amount to much after all , and he hoped she would n't mind what he said , and then he got himself away and strode through the orchard like a man in a desperate hurry . Mordecai had gone home and the pigs were not to be seen , but a chubby little face peeped at him from between two scrub , bloom-white cherry trees . `` G'way , you bad man ! '' said Bobbles vindictively . `` G'way ! You made my mommer cry -- I saw you . I 'm only Bobbles now , but when I grow up I 'll be Charles Henry Hayden and you wo n't dare to make my mommer cry then . '' Harrington smiled grimly . `` So you 're the lad who forgets to shut the pigpen gate , are you ? Come out here and let me see you .
Who is XXXXX there with you ? ''
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