"What a pity she should be so nervous about you!" Tom exclaimed, with a disappointed sigh. "Never mind," he went on, noticing the sad look on his companion's face, "we will manage to enjoy the afternoon somehow. We'll—"
"But I don't want to keep you from going fishing!" Peter broke in.
"Do you think it would be any fun going by myself?" asked Tom. "Rather not! Your aunt said we might go for a walk together, and we will. I know where I will take you. To the Market Square. The shows are arriving there for the Fair next week."
"I did not know there was to be a Fair. Aunt Harriet hasn't said anything about it."
"Oh, I don't suppose she gives it a second thought! But it's rare fun, Peter. There are sweet-stalls, dozens of them, and shooting-galleries, and all sorts of shows—this year there'll be a menagerie. And there are always a dwarf, and a giant, and a fat woman; and the smallest pony in the world; and the biggest horse; and a clever donkey who does tricks and knows every word that's said to him. Last year when the donkey's master gave him a bunch of flowers and told him to present it to the prettiest lady present, he gave it to our Nellie! Wasn't it clever of him? I'd never thought before whether Nellie was pretty or not, but the people all clapped their hands, so I suppose they agreed with the donkey."
The boys had strolled towards the garden gate whilst talking, and now stood leaning against it. Tom, who seemed able to think of little else than the coming fair, was still describing its manifold attractions, when he caught sight of a little girl wandering aimlessly along the road, and recognised the child he had seen run away from the purple-faced woman in the Market Square. He broke off in the midst of describing the various sorts of roundabouts, and exclaimed, "Hulloa!"
"Who is it?" inquired Peter, hearing footsteps.
Tom hurriedly explained, watching the child as she approached; she walked slowly, looking sad and dispirited.
When she was in a line with the gate he addressed her. "Hi, little girl," he said, "wait a minute, I want to speak to you."
She stopped, fixing a pair of inquiring brown eyes on his face. She was about Nellie's age, he thought, and would have been nice-looking if she had not been so pale and thin.