But as the day went on the poor little kit became tired, and would walk no more; and Rosalie grew tired also. Her feet went very slowly now, and she felt afraid that night would come on long before she reached Pendleton. Then the sun was hidden by clouds, and wind began to sweep through the trees, and blew against the child, so that she could hardly make any way against it.
And then came the rain, only a few drops at first, then quicker and quicker, till Rosalie's shawl became wet through, and her clothes clung heavily to her ankles. Still on she walked, very heavily and wearily, and the rain poured on, and the kitten shivered under the shawl. Rosalie did her very best to keep it warm, and every now and then she stroked its wet fur, and spoke a word of comfort to it.
How wearily the child's little feet pressed on, as she struggled against the cold and piercing wind!
How would she ever reach the town? How would she ever hold on till she arrived at her Aunt Lucy's?
CHAPTER XIX
SKIRRYWINKS
Rosalie was almost in despair, almost ready to give up and sit down by the roadside, when she heard a sound behind her. It was the rumbling sound of wheels, and in another minute Rosalie saw coming up to her two large caravans, so [Illustration: A REST BY THE WAYSIDE.]
[Blank Page] like the caravan in which she used to travel with her mother, that the child felt as if she were dreaming as she looked at them.
The caravans were painted a brilliant yellow, just as her father's caravans used to be; and there were muslin curtains and pink bows in the little windows, just like those through which she had so often peeped.
When the caravans came up to Rosalie, she saw a woman standing at the door of the first one, and talking to the man who was driving.