“No, you want to see Ross.”
“I think you can go alone, Bessie.”
“I will,” she said. “Now watch me run,” and away she sped ere Blanche had time to think what she was doing.
The sun had gone down, and Blanche was sitting on an old tree that had fallen by the side of the little stream that ran through the ravine. She was watching the bright colors which blended so beautifully above the tall tree tops, and she was thinking that with a world so full of beauty all around there should be more happiness. Blanche looked up at the richly glowing sky, then down at the clear little stream at her feet.
“Well, upon my word.”
“What is the matter, Mrs. Morris?”
“Well, if you ain’t the funniest woman, settin’ out here on a tree among the birds and the bugs.”
“Is there anything you want?” asked Blanche.
“Why, I thought if there wasn’t anything to do I’d run up to the other house.”
“You may go,” said Blanche, who was in a thinking mood, and glad to be left alone.