Mabel discovered Grace Allen poking among the leaves in the grove.
“Hello, Grace!” said she, hopefully. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I’m going back to the house in a minute.”
“Come along with me—it’s nice out.”
“Don’t care to,” returned Grace, snippishly.
Mabel found the deserted grove rather gloomy and uninteresting. Beyond it the sunny prairie stretched for miles and miles with just one visible break—a small house with a tumble-down fence far off toward the south. It was out of bounds of course. Still, the girls had wandered out on the prairie and not one of the Rhodes family had said a word. It looked like an entirely safe and harmless place. Mabel looked speculatively at the faraway little house.
“I wonder if I couldn’t walk there and back before it gets dark. I’d have something to tell the girls. It would be fun to peek over that fence. Perhaps there are nuts under those trees by the gate. I wish Marjory and Bettie were here, but they had letters to read and this is Jean’s day at the gym. Maude’s too. Anyhow, I’m going a little way.”
It proved a splendid day for walking. Mabel’s brown eyes brightened, a fine color glowed in her cheeks and, for the moment, all her troubles evaporated. She even forgot her danger of becoming a boarding school orphan. Presently she looked back and was pleased to find herself quite a distance from Highland Hall. The school looked quite imposing, on top of its own little hill.
“I can get to that cottage quite easily,” said Mabel, trudging along cheerfully. “Perhaps there are chickens and things in the yard—I hope there isn’t a goat. Too bad the ground is all brown. There isn’t anything left to pick.”
The trees, when Mabel reached them, were apple trees; but all the apples were gone except a withered one. There were chickens in the yard; and a woman who was peering anxiously down the road that began at her gateway and wandered off toward the southwest.