Yet he resented it a little that a bullock-wagon was drawn to one side of the road, the wagon piled high with furniture, which was being lifted piece by piece into the house. His happy hunting-ground was to be his no longer, for evidently the house was to be occupied by a fresh tenant. Dancing to and fro with the men who were unlading the dray was a little girl, her face entirely hidden by a large sun-bonnet, and the rest of her little person enveloped in a blue overall, below which came a pair of sturdy brown legs, scarcely distinguishable from the tan shoes and socks below.
Jack's resentment at the thought of losing his playground yielded to excitement at the prospect of a playmate so close at hand, and he crept cautiously along his side of the lane to obtain a nearer view of the new-comer, finally taking a seat against the fence just opposite the house. It was a minute or two before the little girl discovered him. When she did she crossed the dividing road and stood just far enough from him to make a quick retreat to her own premises if a nearer inspection was unfavourable. It was almost a baby face that peered out from the bonnet: round apple cheeks, big serious eyes, and a halo of dark curls that framed the forehead. Her eyes met Jack's for a moment, then dropped in a sudden attack of shyness, and she showed signs of running away without speaking.
"Wait a bit," said Jack. "Can't you tell us your name?"
The child drew a step nearer. "What's yours?" she said, answering Jack's question by another.
"I'm Jack, father's called Jack, too."
"I'm Eva, but mummy calls me puss. Is that your place?" with a nod towards Jack's home.
"Yes, you can come and look at it if you like," and Jack held out a grubby hand.
Eva paused, looked up the lane and down it.
"Mummy only lets me play with nice little boys," she said.
"All right," said Jack, rising and turning back to go home. That he was rejected on the score of not being nice enough to play with puzzled him rather than annoyed.