"My name is Nelly, too," said Nelly,— rather shyly adding, "I suppose your Nelly goes to school?"
"Yes; she is at Mrs. Birch's boarding-school."
"I suppose she likes it very much?" said Nelly, rather wondering at her own boldness in talking to the strange gentleman.
The gentleman sighed a little. "Why, no; I am afraid not. She is not very fond of her books, and would rather play than read the most entertaining story that ever was written."
"Well," said Nelly, with a sigh, "I believe if I could only go to boarding-school like the young ladies who go past our house every Sunday, I should be perfectly happy."
"Don't you go to school?" asked Mr. Lambert (for that was the gentleman's name).
"No," replied Nelly, rather sullenly, for she felt ashamed to have the gentleman know that she did not go to school; and then, feeling rather ashamed of her ill-manners, she added, "My granny can't spare me to go to school, because I have to mind the cow."
"Does your granny teach you at home, then?"
"No, sir. She says she has forgotten all her learning. But I must be driving my cow home," added Nelly, rising hastily, for she was afraid the gentleman would ask her, next, if she knew how to read. "Granny will wonder what has become of me."
"But you might go to Sunday-school," said Mr. Lambert, walking on with Nelly. "Your grandmother could spare you long enough for that, surely?"