as they drove into the village of Sandwich.

It seemed a very wonderful thing to the little maid from Province Town
to drive up to the inn, with its big painted sign swinging from a post
near the road, and she took hold of Rose's hand as if half afraid.

Rose looked down at her little friend with a smiling face.

"Why, Anne," she said laughingly, "you were not a bit afraid to start
off through the woods alone, or to journey with Indians, and here you
are trembling because you are going into this little tavern for dinner."

Anne managed to smile, but she kept a tight clasp on Rose's hand. It was
not that she was frightened, but as she stepped from the chaise she had
heard one of the loiterers about the door exclaim, "Look at the child,
bareheaded and wearing moccasins," and her quick glance had
comprehended the exchange of smiles; and Anne now felt uncomfortable and
realized that she was not suitably dressed to travel in the high chaise.
She looked at Rose, with her pretty dress of blue dimity, and white hat
with its broad ribbon, her neat shoes and stockings, and realized that
there was a great contrast in their appearance. Anne was very silent all
through the meal and ate but little. Even Mr. Freeman began to notice
that she was very silent and grave, and thought to himself that the
little girl might be homesick.

"We can drive to Plymouth this afternoon," he said, as they finished
their dinner. "It is only about twenty miles, and we can get there early
in the evening."

Anne knew all about Plymouth. From the hill in Province Town she had
looked across the water to Plymouth, and Uncle Enos had told her that
many years ago a band of Pilgrims from England had landed at Province
Town, and then sailed on and settled in Plymouth. Uncle Enos had
wondered at it, and had shook his head over a people who would willingly
settle in any other place than Province Town.

The road now followed the shore very closely, and Rose was interested
in watching the boats, and the many flocks of wild sea-birds circling
about in the summer air. But Anne leaned back in the corner of the
chaise silent and troubled. The more she thought about her lack of all
the things that Rose had the more unhappy she became. "They will all be
ashamed of me when I get to Boston," she thought, "and I have no money
to buy things, and it will be three weeks or more before my dear father
will reach Boston. Oh, dear!" And Anne, for the moment, wished herself