Now and then Roxy and Polly exchanged a friendly smile, both well pleased that their disagreement of the early afternoon was forgotten, and when they left the dining-room and sauntered from the porch to the shade of a big butternut tree that stood a short distance from the house, leaving Grandma Miller and Roxy’s mother, Mrs. Delfield said:
“I am so glad Polly and Roxy are such good friends. Polly is such a sweet-tempered, good girl.”
“Indeed she is,” agreed Grandma Miller, “and just the right companion for our impulsive Roxy who has not yet learned to think first before acting on an impulse.”
“But the child’s impulses are all good ones,” replied Mrs. Delfield, “and I believe in letting her follow them.”
Grandma Miller smiled wisely. “All the more reason, my dear, for being glad that Roxy has Polly for her friend,” she said.
While this conversation went on the two girls under the butternut tree were making pleasant plans for the next day. Polly had made a wonderful discovery and was eager to share it with Roxy.
“Roxy, you know that from the end window in your chamber you can look straight across the fields and see the end windows of our attic,” she began. But Roxy shook her head.
“I can see the top of your house, but I don’t remember about windows,” she said thoughtfully.
“I’m sure you can,” Polly insisted, “because I looked out from our attic and I could see your window just as plain as could be; and the muslin curtain blew out, back and forth, while I was looking, just as if somebody was waving it,” and Polly smiled and nodded as if expecting Roxy to discover some particular meaning in the waving curtain, but Roxy’s gray eyes were fixed questioningly on her companion and she made no response.
“Oh, Roxy! What a little owl you are!” said Polly laughingly. “Don’t you understand what the waving curtain means? Signals!” and at the last word, Polly’s voice dropped to a whisper. But Roxy had sprung up, a little angry flush showing on her brown cheeks.