"But red means danger," Mollie objected, "and we aren't dangerous."
"Mamma is when we break rules," Prudence replied, "and it will remind
Grizzel to hurry up."
"Good gracious!" Mollie ejaculated, as she climbed down on her errand, "I am glad we don't hang a red lantern out of the nursery window when we see Mother coming along. How she would laugh if we did!"
"It won't burn long," Prue said, as she shut the lantern door, "but it will do. Now we'll go down the lane; I am almost sure Grizzel will come that way."
They crossed the garden and slipped into the lane through a narrow back gate. It seemed to Mollie that the darkness fell like a curtain, so quickly did it come dropping down. High up above the trees they could see the red lantern shining in the dusk like a glowing ruby; the air was growing chilly, and all the warm bright colours were fading into a dull uniform grey, when suddenly out of the shadowy dimness there leapt a dark form—a form with a bushy tail and a friendly bark.
"Laddie!" exclaimed Prudence, and a moment after Grizzel appeared, running along and swinging her basket.
"Am I late?" she asked breathlessly. "I didn't mean to be so long; I stopped to look at the shop windows."
"Oh, Grizzel, where have you been?" Prue said, catching her sister by the arm. "I have been so frightened. Come on quickly now, or we won't be ready, and then there will be a hullabuloo and goodness knows what tomorrow."
They hurried back to the house, and were met by an anxious Bridget with Baby in her arms. Bridget scolded, and Baby laughed, and they were all so busy "getting ready" that it was not till three white muslin frocks were spread primly over three green damask Victorian chairs that Prudence found time to ask:
"How on earth did you get down from the tree?"