"Please, mister, does this road lead to Brackenshire?" she asked.
The man did not look very good-natured.
"Lead to where?" he said, gruffly.
"To Brackenshire—it's painted up on the wall, but we want to be sure."
"If it's painted up on the wall, what's the sense of askin' me?" he said. "If you go far enough no doubt you'll get there. There's more'n one road to Brackenshire."
Sarah was quite satisfied.
"You see," she said to Peggy, running back to her, "it's all right. If we go along this 'ere road a bit, I 'specs it'll turn again and then we'll see the 'ills straight in front."
Peggy had no objection. Fernley Road was bare and glaring just about there, and the trees were very tempting.
"It's really getting like the country," said Peggy, as they passed several pretty gardens, larger and much prettier than the small ones in Fernley Road.
"Yes," Light Smiley agreed, "but though gardings is nice, I don't hold with gardings anything like as much as fields. Fields is splendid where you can race about and jump and do just as you like, and no fears of breakin' flowers or nothink."