“I suppose we ought to invite her to stay and rest,” said Malkin.
“Just what I was going to say, if you hadn’t taken the words out of my mouth,” said Nibby. “Suppose you—”
“Oh no, thank you, I can’t,” said Merrimeg. “But I’m ever so much obliged to you, just the same, and now I’ve got to run home in a hurry.”
“Quite polite, after all, brother,” said Malkin.
“Just what I was thinking,” said Nibby.
“Good-bye!” cried Merrimeg, and went up the ladder to the trapdoor in the ceiling and out into the world. The sun was shining and the squirrels were scampering up the trees and the birds were singing and— Away she flew as fast as her feet would carry her, through the woods and down the village street and in at the back door of her own house.
“Well!” said her mother, taking her hands out of the dough. “You must have gone to the end of the world and back!”
“Yes’m,” said Merrimeg.
“Did you get your face washed with May-dew?”
“Yes, mother,” said Merrimeg.