“They might be more disappointed if I did.”
“Then you are quite sure?”
“Perfectly.”
“In that case—it’s such splendid material, I really don’t see how you have strength to let it alone—I believe I’ll change my mind a second time.”
“You may; only don’t get into the habit—and change it again,” Blue Bonnet warned.
“I won’t,” Alec promised; “I’m going straight to work. I’m no end obliged to you for telling that story; it’s the best subject ever.”
Spring came early that year, and no one rejoiced more in its coming than Blue Bonnet. Now that the winter was over, she began to realize how long it had seemed; and, as the days went by, Miss Fellows began to realize with equal vividness something of what Miss Rankin had gone through with last fall.
There was no wilful breaking of rules, Blue Bonnet had not forgotten her promise, but there was much inward rebellion and outward struggle, resulting in more or less inattention during school hours. Blue Bonnet’s eyes would wander again and again to the window, her thoughts drifting even further afield. The remembrance of what the ranch must be like now grew daily more insistent.
The long rides and walks after school, the hunts for wild flowers, the tennis which, with the coming of Spring, the Woodford young people had promptly instituted, helped a good deal.