Blue Bonnet dropped her strap of books, ran for her skates, paid a visit to the cookie jar in the pantry, patted Solomon, and with a “Good-bye, Grandmother,” was off, leaving Mrs. Clyde feeling as if a small whirlwind had swept through the quiet house.
What with school, her afternoons on the pond, her evenings of study, broken by occasional neighborhood gatherings, Blue Bonnet found the time slipping by very fast. While she missed her uncle greatly, she was learning more and more how much can be done by letter-writing, and those were far from doleful letters that traveled every week from Woodford to the far-away Texas ranch.
The weather held wonderfully; never had the pond been in better condition than during those January days.
“But the thaw’s bound to come before long,” Debby predicted one afternoon.
“The snow’s coming first!” Susy pointed to the clouds banking themselves up above the low line of hills—“Coming before to-morrow morning, too.”
“Let’s not go in just yet!” Blue Bonnet pleaded, as Susy bent to unfasten her straps.
“But it’s time!”
“You’re such a prompt-to-the-minute girl, Susy Doyle!” Blue Bonnet objected. “I’m not ready to go—are you, Kitty?”
“You never are ready,” Debby protested. They four were the only club members out that afternoon; as Debby insisted later, if only Sarah had been there it would never have happened.