“Let’s go that way and meet them;” and Nan wheeled about, and began to trot through the bushes, feeling a trifle anxious, for there were so many cow-paths all about she could not remember which way they came.
On they went over stock and stone again, pausing now and then to listen for the horn, which did not blow any more, for it was only the moo of a cow on her way home.
“I don’t remember seeing that pile of stones—do you?” asked Nan, as she sat on a wall to rest a moment and take an observation.
“I don’t remember any thing, but I want to go home,” and Rob’s voice had a little tremble in it that made Nan put her arms round him and lift him gently down, saying, in her most capable way,—
“I’m going just as fast as I can, dear. Don’t cry, and when we come to the road, I’ll carry you.”
“Where is the road?” and Robby wiped his eyes to look for it.
“Over by that big tree. Don’t you know that’s the one Ned tumbled out of?”
“So it is. May be they waited for us; I’d like to ride home—wouldn’t you?” and Robby brightened up as he plodded along toward the end of the great pasture.
“No, I’d rather walk,” answered Nan, feeling quite sure that she would be obliged to do so, and preparing her mind for it.