Shirley nodded.
"What is there?" she repeated.
"I don't know, dear," Rosemary admitted. "I've never been that far. Do you want to go and see? We have time, I think."
Shirley slipped a small hand into her sister's.
"Let's go," she said eagerly.
Rosemary had often felt a curiosity to know what was beyond a bend in a road, but she never remembered making a deliberate attempt to gratify that feeling. Shirley, having been made curious, had no mind to go away unsatisfied.
They turned and walked back, Rosemary hoping the little old lady might not see them. But she was nowhere in sight and was, in all probability, absorbed in her knitting.
"Maybe the three bears live around the corner," suggested Shirley, beginning to regret her curiosity as they neared the turn.
"The Big Bear and the Middle Bear and the Little Bear?" said Rosemary. "I wonder if they do? In a cunning little house, Shirley, with three beds and three porridge bowls—wouldn't that be fun?"
Shirley pressed closer. She preferred to hear about the three bears, rather than meet them face to face.