‘Here is the robin’s nest up in the maple tree,’ cried Sally, pointing up among the leafy green boughs. ‘Can you see, Alice? Can you see the birds in the nest? And here on the edge of the path is the hole where the old toad lives. He comes out for a walk every night when the sun goes down. And here is my swing, Alice. Do you like to swing?’
Yes, Alice liked to swing.
And it was while they were playing happily together that Sally heard Aunt Bee’s voice calling,
‘Sally! Sally! Here come Mother and Father up the street!’
Sally could scarcely believe it. It seemed such a short time ago that she had watched them out of sight on their way to the city. How quickly the long, long day had passed!
‘I was good, Mother,’ called Sally, dancing up and down and then running forward to fling her arms about Mother’s neck. ‘I was as good as gold. Did you bring me a present, Father? The present you promised you would?’
Of course Father had brought Sally her present, a pretty, white wooden dove, whose wings flapped merrily to and fro in the wind.
Father fastened him outside the window in Sally’s room where the breeze from the sea blew all day long.
When bedtime came Sally went to the window for a last peep at her little white dove, and there across the way in Miss Neppy’s window stood Alice, in her nightgown, too, ready like Sally to creep into her little white bed.
‘Good-night, Alice,’ called Sally across the narrow street. ‘Come and play with me to-morrow, with my bird and dolls and everything.’