Anne hurried down the hill and along the shore toward the Cary house, holding the doll carefully under the little shawl of gay plaid which Mrs. Stoddard had pinned about her shoulders. The sand no longer felt warm about her bare feet.
“I shall be wearing my new stockings and shoes soon,” she thought, as her feet felt the cold dampness.
Amanda saw her coming and ran out to meet her, a white kitten close at her heels.
“See, the British ship is going!” exclaimed Amanda, and the two little girls turned and watched the big ship under full sail moving off across the harbor.
“Amanda,” said Anne, “you know you gave me the nice white kitten?”
“Yes,” replied Amanda; “has it run away?”
“Oh, no; it is just as contented as can be,” said Anne; “only ever since you gave it to me I have wished I could give you something.”
Amanda’s face flushed and she dug her bare toes into the sand. She was remembering how unkind she and Amos had been to Anne, and was wishing that Anne would not thank her for the kitten.
“And now I have a present for you,” went on Anne, taking the wooden doll from beneath the little plaid shawl.
“Your doll!” exclaimed Amanda in surprise.