"You're afraid of it!" Bob exclaimed. "You need not be. I don't think it will bite."
"I never thought of keeping a ferret as a pet," remarked Rupert. "I believe it knows you, Bob."
"Of course it does. Did you say Miss Long had come to say good-bye?"
"Yes, she's going home to-morrow. Father will drive her to the station to catch the fast train to London. We're to have a month's holiday."
"Jolly! We'll see each other every day. Uncle says if the wind goes down to-night—and he thinks it will—we shall have frost. I hope it's going to be fine Christmassy weather; I don't mind how cold it is."
"The colder the better, for then the pond in the lower meadow will freeze, and we shall have skating."
"I can't skate, but I can slide."
"There's Nellie calling," said Rupert. "I suppose they're ready to leave. Why, how the light is going! You may as well walk a little way with us—that is, if you don't mind the dusk?"
"Rather not!"
Bob accompanied his friends some distance on their homeward road. And then, having wished the governess a very happy Christmas, he hurried back to the farm to be in readiness for tea.