Instead, however, of riding homewards to-day as usual, it pleased Beebee’s fancy to turn her horse’s head towards the hills.
The poor child seemed to exult in her newly-acquired freedom. Why should she be watched and guarded as if she were a prisoner and a thief? she asked Miss Morgan.
“Why indeed?” answered that lady.
“Daughters are not so treated in Merrie England, are they, dear teacher?”
“Oh, no, Beebee, my pupil. There they have much freedom, and are looked upon as in every way the equals of man!”
“How I long to see England,” said Beebee.
Then she bent down to me and patted my head.
“Some day, Shireen,” she said, “some day. Ah! I know my freedom will come! Perhaps my prince may come. In all pretty stories and fairy-tales a prince always comes.”
She laughed lightly as she spurred on her horse, Miss Morgan following close to her heels.
But little did Beebee know that her prince had already come, and that he was at the present moment in this very forest.