The next day, when Sir Charles's carriage came for Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild, they kissed the children, and told them when they had dined, they might, if they pleased, go with Betty to see old Mary Bush. Mary Bush was one of the old women who lived at the end of the coppice; and, being a good woman, Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild were not afraid of trusting their children with her. The children were very much pleased, and made haste to get their dinner; after which Lucy packed up a little tea and sugar, which her mamma had given her, in a basket;
and the little girls, having put on their bonnets and tippets, went into the kitchen to see if Betty was ready. Betty was tying up a small loaf and a pot of butter in a clean napkin; and she had put some nice cream into a small bottle, for which John was cutting a cork.
"Betty, are you ready?" said Henry; "Lucy has got the tea and sugar, and Emily has got Miss Dolly, and I have got my hat and stick. So come, Betty, come!"
"But who is to milk the cow?" said John, pretending to look grave; "Betty must stay to milk the cow at five o'clock."
"No, John!" said the children, all gathering round him; "good John, will you be so kind as to milk the cow, and let Betty go?"
"Well, I will see about it," said John, putting the cork into the cream bottle.
"There's a good John!" said Emily.
"I love you, John!" said Henry. "And now, Betty, come, make haste away."
So the children set out; and they went out across the garden to a little wicket-gate which Mr. Fairchild had opened towards the coppice, and came into Henry's favourite Sunday walk. The green trees arched over their heads; and on each side the pathway was a mossy bank, out of which sprang such kind of flowers as love shady places—such as the wood anemone and wild vetch: thrushes and blackbirds were singing sweetly amongst the branches of the trees.
"This is my walk," said Henry; "and I say it is the prettiest in the country."