“We haven’t any dogs over here,” Blue Bonnet said regretfully. “I don’t know how I’m going to get on without any.”
“We’ll go shares with mine.” The boy hesitated. “You’re—?”
“Bl—Elizabeth Ashe.”
“And I’m Alec Trent. You’re from Texas?”
“Yes,” Blue Bonnet answered.
“How jolly!” Alec threw himself down on the lawn beside the stile. “You won’t mind my making myself comfortable while you tell me about Texas?”
And suddenly Blue Bonnet noticed how thin were the hands clasped under his head, how big and bright the eyes in the delicate, sensitive face.
She leaned forward, stirred by a quick impulse of pity. “I’ll tell you about the prairies.” She told him of the great open sea of prairie land, stretching away in wild, unbroken reaches all about her Texas home.
Alec whistled. “And you had to come away and leave it all! What a shame!—but you’ve got it to go back to—I wish I had!”