I can show you the house,
we can see it up above when we get to the church.'
And, funnily enough, just as we got close to the village we came upon a
little party of the convalescent children going a walk. They were all
dressed alike--the girls in brown frocks and red cloaks and brown hats,
and the boys in some sort of corduroy. And there was a sort of servanty
looking person with them, and also a lady; just for half a moment I
wondered if it was Miss Cross-at-first, but it wasn't. This one was
quite different; she was short and round-faced, and extremely
good-natured looking. She smiled at us as she passed us. And the
children all looked very happy.
'You see they've come a walk along the wood like us,' said Maud,
'because I daresay it's wet in their garden too.'
'I'd like to go to see them very much,' said Anne. 'What a pity it isn't
Miss Cross-at-first with them! And mums never remembered to write to
Cousin Dorothea to ask if it could have been her you saw in the church
that day.'
'I'm certain it was,' I said. 'I don't need Cousin Dorothea or anybody
to say so. But I'd like to know if she's gone away or if she's coming
back again. They say girls--ladies, I mean--take it in turns to come and
look after the children.'
'Perhaps Mrs. Parsley could find out for us,' said Anne. 'You know,
nurse, we want to have some of the children at tea at the farm before we
go. Mother said she daresayed we might.'
'It's time enough, Miss Anne, to talk about what you'll do before you
go, seeing as you're scarcely come,' said nurse, rather grumpily. She's
not very fond of things to do with poor children; she's always afraid of
our catching illnesses. 'And it would be no kindness to ask any other
children to come to see you at present. As likely as not they'd be
getting the whooping-cough.'
We hadn't thought of that; it was rather a disappointment.
We had got to the church by now, and we all went in. It didn't look
quite so pretty as the day I had seen it first, for there was no
sunshine coming in through the coloured windows and lighting up the
queer old tablets and figures here and there. Still it looked very nice,
and Anne and Maud admired it very much. So did Serry, only she said
she'd have liked it better with high pews and curtains to draw round the
big square ones. Just fancy that!
'You _couldn't_ think it was nicer like that,' I said.
'Not prettier, but there must have been such jolly corners and
hiding-places
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