The voice was far from unkind, but its effect on Betsy was instantaneous.
“I must go, miss,” she said; “mother’s calling;” and off she ran.
“How nice and funny it must be to set the tea for her father,” thought Judy, as she walked on. “I should like that sort of work. What a silly girl she is not to see how much fewer troubles she has than I. I only wish—”
“What did you say you wished?” interrupted a voice that seemed to come out of the hedge, so suddenly did its owner appear before Judy.
“I didn’t say I wished anything—at least I didn’t know I was speaking aloud,” said the little girl, as soon as she found voice to reply.
The person who had spoken to her was a little old woman, with a scarlet cloak that nearly covered her. She had a basket on her arm, and looked as if she was returning from market. There was nothing very remarkable about her, and yet Judy felt startled and a little frightened, she did not quite know why.
“I didn’t know I was speaking aloud,” she repeated, staring half timidly at the old woman.
“Didn’t you?” she replied. “Well, now I think of it, I don’t remember saying that you did. There’s more kinds of speaking than with tongue and words. What should you say if I were to tell you what it was you were wishing just now?”
“I don’t know,” said Judy, growing more alarmed “I think, please, I had better run on. Nurse will be wondering where I am.”
“You didn’t think of that when you were standing chattering to little Betsy just now,” said the old woman.