"And we shall tell our dame why we held the turn-stile against you," replied one of the children; "and then it will be plain that it was your fault."
Perhaps Owen did not hear this; for he was now at some distance from the gate. Presently he heard some one running after him—It was Marianne.
"Oh, I am so much out of breath with running after you!—I can hardly speak!—But I am come back," said this good-natured girl, "to tell you that you will be sorry if you do not come with us; for there is something that you like very much, just at the turn of the road, a little beyond the turnpike-gate."
"Something that I like very much!—What can that be?"
"Come with me, and you shall see," said Marianne; "that is both rhyme and reason—Come with me, and you shall see."
She looked so good-humoured, as she smiled and nodded at him, that he could not be sullen any longer.
"I don't know how it is, cousin Marianne," said he; "but when I am cross, you are never cross; and you can always bring me back to good-humour again, you are so good-humoured yourself—I wish I was like you—But we need not talk any more of that now—What is it that I shall see on the other side of the turnpike-gate?—What is it that I like very much?"
"Don't you like ripe cherries very much?"
"Yes; but they do not grow in these hedges."
"No; but there is an old woman sitting by the road-side, with a board before her, which is covered with red ripe cherries."