Comfort looked at her piteously.
“Guess I'd better go home,” said she.
But Matilda was gazing at her doubtfully. “Look here,” said she.
“What?” said Comfort.
“It ain't mor'n three miles to Bolton. Mother's walked there, and so has Imogen—”
“Do you s'pose—we could?”
“I don't b'lieve it would hurt us one mite. Say, I tell you what we can do: I'll take my sled, and I'll drag you a spell and then you can drag me, and that will be riding half the way for both of us, anyhow.”
“So it will,” said Comfort.
But Matilda looked doubtful again. “There's only one thing,” she said. “Mother ain't at home—she and Rosy went over to grandma's to spend the day this morning—and I can't ask her. I don't see how I can go without asking her, exactly.”
Comfort thought miserably, “What would Matilda Stebbins say if she knew I took that ring when my mother told me not to?”