CHAPTER III
THE DAY AFTER THE FAIR
The next morning Rosalie was waked by a rap at the caravan door. She crept out of bed, and, putting her dress over her shoulders, peeped out between the muslin curtains.
'It's Toby, mammie,' she said; 'I'll see what he wants.'
She opened the door a crack, and Toby put his mouth to it, and whispered—
'Miss Rosie, we're going to start in about half an hour. Master has just sent me for the horses; we've been up all night packing; three of the waggons is loaded, and they've only some of the scenery to roll up, and then we shall start.'
'Where are we going, Toby?' asked the child.
'It's a town a long way off,' said Toby; 'we've never been there before, master says, and it will take us nearly a week to get there. But I must be off, Miss Rosie, or master will be coming.'
'Aren't you tired, Toby?' said the child kindly.
Toby shrugged his shoulders, and said, with a broad grin—