As we went down the road, I said to Sophy, “What did old Elspie mean, do you suppose?”
“I am afraid I can guess what she meant, Cary.”
Sophy’s tone was so strange that I looked up at her; and I saw her eyes flashing and her lips set and white.
“Sophy! what is the matter?” I cried.
“Don’t trouble your little head, Cary,” she said, kindly enough. “It will be trouble in plenty when it comes.”
I could not get her to say more. As we reached the door, Hatty came dancing out to meet us.
“‘The rose is white, the rose is red,’—
The sun gives light, Queen Anne is dead:
Ladies with white and rosy hues,
What will you give me for my news?”
“Hatty, you must have made that yourself!” said Sophy.
“I have, just this minute,” laughed Hatty. “Now then, who’ll bid for my news?”
“I dare say it isn’t worth a farthing,” said Sophy.