'It will be three weeks ago now,' said Jessie mournfully; 'but it seems more like three months. I never was so wretched in all my life before; I've cried myself to sleep every night.'
'Whatever made you leave your mother?' said Rosalie.
'It was that circus; it came to the next town to where we lived. All the girls in the village were going to it, and I wanted to go with them, and my mother wouldn't let me.'
'Why not?'
'She said I should get no good there—that there were a great many bad people went to such places, and I was better away.'
'Then how did you see it?' said Rosalie.
'I didn't see it that day; and at night the girls came home, and told me all about it, and what a fine procession it was, and how the ladies were dressed in silver and gold, and the gentlemen in shining armour. And then I almost cried with disappointment because I had not seen it too. The girls said it would be in the town one more day, and then it was going away. And when I got into bed that night, I made up my mind that I would go and have a look at it the next day.'
'But did your mother let you?' said Rosalie.
'No; I knew it was no use asking her. I meant to slip out of the house before she knew anything about it; but it so happened that that day she was called away to the next village to see my aunt, who was ill.'
'And did you go when she was out?'