“Really I don’t want to hurry,” said Betty, “even if I ought to. Perhaps I can study better.”
“I wonder what time it is,” said Cathalina, “I did not put on my watch.”
“Neither did I,” said Betty, “but the wood thrushes have been singing steadily for some time and I’ve noticed that they begin to tune up about three o’clock sun time. We lost lots of time at the farm-house. It will be pretty late by the time we get home, I mean, late to begin studying. Don’t worry if I’m not at dinner. I’ll get excused afterwards. Would you mind making me a sandwich and putting it somewhere in the suite where nobody will eat it up?”
“Oh, Betty, you ought to take time to eat!”
“Dinner takes too long. I’d rather have the time here.”
“I feel more like hurrying, if we get a row before dinner.”
“Let’s catch up, then.”
The girls had been lagging behind the rest for a few minutes, as they were in the bridle path in the woods, the last lap before the final gallop to Greycliff Hall, and the groom who kept behind them, according to orders, had shown some slight restlessness, though he did not interrupt their conversation. The column of riders closed up, and some one from in front called to the groom to come and fix something. He passed a dozen of the girls till he reached the one who needed assistance, and as they were in sight of the school, he did not return to his position as rear guard, but kept along with the rest.
“Don’t wait for me, Cathalina,” said Betty, “I see something I positively must have for my book of Greycliff flowers. Gallop along, I’ll be there in a minute.” So saying, she waved her hand to Cathalina, who gave reins to Prince. He needed no urging to hurry through the rest of the way in the wood and to gallop, with clattering feet, on the road which led so shortly to Greycliff.
At the point where Betty stopped, the wood was open for a little way in the direction in which Betty had seen the bright flower. Instead of dismounting, then, Betty turned her horse aside and advanced toward the spot, thinking that she would hold “Calico” while she picked the flower. But Calico was nervous. He wanted to get on with the rest, and when a rabbit started up from almost under his feet, he suddenly bolted, and before Betty could tighten her loose reins he darted ahead where the woods was still open, paying no attention to Betty’s “Whoa, whoa, Boy! Whoa, Calico! Steady now!”