'Oh, please,' said Rosalie timidly, 'I would very much like to give it to her myself, if you will be so kind as to let me wait till she comes.'
'Yes, she won't be very long,' said the girl. 'Would you like to sit in the summer-house till she comes I it's very pleasant there.'
'Oh, thank you,' said the child gratefully; 'I should like it very much indeed.'
'I'll show you where it is,' said the girl; 'it's behind these trees.'
As Rosalie was walking to the summer-house, she ventured for the first time to look into the girl's face. The voice had seemed familiar to her; but when she saw the face, the large brown eyes, the dark hair, and the rosy cheeks, she felt sure that she had met with an old friend.
'Oh, please,' she said, stopping suddenly short in the path—'please, aren't you Britannia?'
'How do you know anything about Britannia?' she inquired hurriedly.
'I didn't mean to say Britannia,' said Rosalie. 'I know you don't ever want to be called that again; but, please, you are Jessie, are you not?'
'Yes, dear,' said the girl, 'my name is Jessie; but how do you know me?'
'Please,' said Rosalie, 'don't you remember me? And how we talked in the caravan that windy night, when my mammie was so ill?'