“Roxy—Roxy! Here’s the sun shining, and the day nearly over. I must be off!” and with Roxy running beside her Polly started for the yard to ask one of the negro boys to saddle “Brownie.”
“I’m glad it rained!” said Roxy, as Polly swung herself to the saddle. “And our signals are splendid, aren’t they, Polly?”
“Splendid!” replied Polly, and with a smiling good-bye she sent “Brownie” off at a swift trot, and Roxy stood looking after her.
“Nobody, no other girl, is like Polly,” she thought, remembering Polly’s unfailing good nature. “Maybe it’s because she is almost grown up.” And then Roxy’s smile vanished. A whole day had passed and she had not yet found courage to tell her mother that she had forgotten about her promise not to go beyond the bridge, and had visited three little girls without being invited!
“I guess I had better tell her now!” Roxy decided. “It isn’t going to be any easier to wait,” and she went slowly toward the front porch where her mother and grandmother were sitting.
CHAPTER VIII
FOLLOWING THE BROOK
“And when are the little Hinham girls coming to visit you?” asked Grandma Miller, as Roxy finished her story.
“I think we could have a swing fixed on that big branch of the butternut tree,” said Roxy’s mother thoughtfully, for Roxy had described the swing as one of the chief delights of the visit with her new friends.
The little girl, leaning against the arm of her mother’s chair, looked wonderingly from her mother to her grandmother. Neither of them had said a word of blame; and Grandma Miller even nodded and smiled when Roxy had explained that she did not remember her promise about not going beyond the bridge.
“Of course you forgot it, my dear, or you would not have gone,” she said, and Roxy gave a sigh of relief.