Anne was not a dull child, and Rose’s silence made her realize that she had acted selfishly; still, she could not feel that wanting to keep “Martha Stoddard” was wrong.
“There! You are quite rid of ink now,” said Rose, “and there is an hour before dinner. Do you want to write some more in your book?”
“No,” said Anne. It seemed to her that she should never want to write in the book again. She wished that she and “Martha Stoddard” were safe back with Aunt Martha in Province Town.
“Well, I have some errands to do for mother, so I’ll run along,” said Rose pleasantly, and left Anne alone in the little square room called the “sink-room,” because of two sinks near the one window which overlooked the green yard at the back of the house. There was a door opening into the yard, and Anne looked out feeling more unhappy than she had since the night when Aunt Martha had sent her up-stairs.
Frederick was in the yard. He was setting what looked to Anne like wooden bottles in a straight row at the further end of the square of greensward. Then he ran across to the open door where Anne was standing.
HE HANDED HER A BALL
“Want to play bowls?” he asked.
“I don’t know how,” replied Anne.