“We have one though—” Hanny began, and then she stopped short. She realized she had been on the verge of saying too much.
“Where does your uncle grow this wonderful tulip?” Mrs. Mattox pursued the subject.
Hanny would not say. She was glad when they reached the boundary of her uncle’s land. The other Brownies were at the fence and helped to pull the water-logged boat back to its mooring place.
“Don’t you mind Mrs. Mattox,” Connie said to Hanny, slipping an arm about the little girl’s waist. “She is just an old meanie.”
“But it is true my uncle may lose this farm.”
“You will win the blue ribbon for your prize tulip.”
“I hope so,” Hanny said soberly, “but Uncle Peter says we cannot count on it. All the growers in Rosedale are trying for the prize. Many new varieties will be shown.”
“Yours will be the very best,” Connie declared confidently. “If it is the Golden Beauty I am sure it will win.”
The children hauled the leaky boat up on the grassy bank. As they overturned it, Miss Gordon hailed them from the path.
“Come to the house, girls,” she called. “Mr. Van Der Lann has invited us to have sweet cakes.”