“My dear child,” said Mr. Sheridan in a patronizing tone, “there are probably several things that you don’t understand yet. How old are you, may I ask?”
“Fourteen. Fifteen really. My birthday comes next month. But don’t you remember that it says in the Bible that it isn’t good for people to be alone. That was the text just last Sunday, and I remember thinking that that was why we are all crowded together into this town, instead of scattering out over there—” she waved in the direction of the country, “where it seems much nicer.”
Mr. Sheridan made no reply, for a moment. Then as Jane made a motion to depart, he said hastily,
“What do you do?”
“Oh, I go to school, and help mother, and go on adventures—”
“Go on adventures?”
“Yes. Long, long walks. Sometimes with the twins, and sometimes with Carl, though he never wants to go where I want to go, and often by myself. I take a package of bread and cheese because I get hungry very easily, or sometimes some Raisin Delights, and I pretend that I’m going out into the world to seek my fortune. And I walk and walk, sometimes taking this road and sometimes that—until it’s time to turn around and come home.”
“Don’t you ever get lost?”
“Oh, often. That makes it more exciting than ever.”
“What are Raisin Delights?”