They found themselves in a garden, very bright and pretty with many flowers growing in beds bordered by little box hedges and separated by paths of red brick. A sun-dial was in the centre of the garden, where the paths met, while at the bottom of the garden ran a clear stream. Willows bowed over this, dipping the fine long ends of their slender branches in the water. A couple of benches stood under these trees. On one of these sat a little girl in a rose-pink gown, her hat hanging from her arm by long strings, a broad-brimmed leghorn with roses round the brim. She seemed to be studying, for there was a school book open on her knees.
Rose and Ruth were dressed in flowered muslin skirts, very full and reaching to their boot tops, with pointed bodices of the same pretty stuff having lace ruffles at the neck and elbow sleeves. Over this they each wore a little apron. Their shoes were square-toed, with big bright buckles, and they had on white stockings. Little bonnets were tied under their chins.
Demurely they walked down the sweet-smelling garden path toward the small, dark-haired maid seated on the bench. She pored over her book, and seemed in no special good spirits.
Just as they were on the point of speaking she looked up. Instantly a smile flooded her face like sudden sunshine on a dark day.
Up she jumped and was beside them in an instant.
“So you’ve really come! What good news this will be to Hugh and Jack, for I have promised them if you came that we will go to Hugh’s house after school; his mother has told him to bring one or two or his school-mates to play in the garden this afternoon. And they look forward to meeting you. But we must hurry, we shall be late else, and there is no knowing what that hateful David Dove may not do in such a case.”
Somewhat to their surprise Rose and Ruth found they had a few books strapped together under their arms. Evidently school it must be. So with Darthea they set off, through the gate that opened on a pretty street faced by neat houses, with cosy porches vine-embowered. Other children, singly and in groups, were bound the same way with themselves. Many of these were clad in sober grey, with white kerchiefs worn fichu-wise on the girls, and broad-brimmed Quaker hats on the boys.
“How grown-up they look in those funny clothes,” Ruth whispered to Rose. “Not at all like children. And how gravely they go along.”
Just here two boys, clad like those Ruth was criticising, in full-skirted coats and breeches reaching to the knee, with buckled shoes and wide-brimmed hats, sober-hued as mice, came round the corner of another street. When they saw Darthea and her friends they hastened their steps, and presently bowed before them gravely.
Darthea looked at them shyly under her long black lashes, introducing Rose and Ruth very prettily, however, in spite of her apparent confusion.