Bertie’s eyes were troubled and sad.
“That does no good, it only makes my head ache; but I like being in church.”
Queenie was aware that her father was shaking hands with the Squire. A sudden impulse came over her to speak whilst she had the chance.
“I want us to be friends,” she said again. “Do you know the big oak tree down by the sunk fence at the end of the Squire’s park, near the lodge?”
Bertie thought a little.
“I think I do.”
“If you’ll come out there to-morrow afternoon, I’ll come too. One of us can climb over, and we’ll play together. Don’t forget, and do come.”
Bertie had no time to reply. A quick smile passed between the children as they parted to go their several ways.