She held the packet under her cape, and as she came near him she whispered, as Captain Enos had told her to do, “This is from Boston.”
“Great George!” he exclaimed grabbing the package, in what seemed a very rude manner to Anne, and putting it quickly in his pocket, “and how came you by it?”
But Anne remembered her promise to keep quiet, and she also remembered that the squire’s niece had made the queer little curtsey on saying good-bye. So Anne bobbed very prettily to the squire, and said “good-bye,” and ran down the steps, leaving the squire standing amazed. It was many weeks before he learned the name of the little maid, and that her home was in Province Town.
“THIS IS FROM BOSTON”
It was an easy matter to find her way back to the lane. There was an orchard just at the corner of the road, and a man was gathering apples. “Want an apple?” he called.
“Yes, sir,” answered Anne, and now, being rather proud of her new accomplishment, she curtseyed very politely.
“Well, well, you are a young lady, miss. Come up to the fence and I’ll hand you the apples.” Anne obeyed, and the good-natured man gave her two big red-cheeked apples. They seemed very wonderful to the little girl from the sandy shore village, where apples were not often to be seen, and she thanked him delightedly.