Flossie and Reginald lingered after the others had gone. He gathered some blossoming weeds which grew near the cottage, thinking thus to cheer her, and to turn her mind from the hated English history.
She took the flowers, and for a time she laughed and talked so brightly that she seemed her sunny self.
He was just thinking how happy she looked when suddenly she leaned toward him, and said earnestly:
“Do you s'pose Bob was mistaken?”
Reginald hesitated. He ardently admired Bob, but he also cared for dear little Flossie, and longed to please her, so after a pause he said:
“My big brother knows 'most everything, but just p'r'aps he might have been mistaken.”
It was not much comfort, but it was better than if Reginald had insisted that Bob's knowledge was absolute.
As Mrs. Dainty's carriage bowled along the avenue, the trees seemed ablaze with autumn splendor, for the leaves that danced in the sunlight were scarlet and gold, and the sunbeams flickered and shimmered like merry elves.
The light breeze tossed the plumes on Dorothy's hat, and blew her golden curls about her lovely little face.
She leaned back in the carriage and laid her hand in Nancy's. Nancy's fingers were quick to clasp Dorothy's, and for a time they sat listening to what Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte Grayson were saying.