tina!" mused Ingred. "I wonder
what she would have grown up like. And what her history would have been!
I'd give worlds to know more about her!"
"Aren't you coming, Ingred?" called Verity from the doorway. "Miss
Strong says we ought to be getting on now."
Ingred brought her thoughts back with an effort to the twentieth
century, and joined the waiting party outside. Miss Strong was talking
to their guide, who was describing a short cut across the fields that
would save them several miles on their way to Pursborough.
Verity, after calling to her friend in the museum, had run out. Ingred
followed her, to find her with her arm locked closely through Bess's.
There was no reason why she should not display such a mark of affection,
but to Ingred it seemed little short of an insult to herself. Verity,
her particular chum, to have openly gone over to the enemy! She stared
at her in surprise. Verity did not appear to notice the stare, however,
and walked on quite calmly.
Miss Strong had decided that they should find a quiet place along the
lane where they could eat their lunch before beginning the second part
of their march. She fixed on a lovely spot with a high wooded bank at
the back and in front fields that sloped to the river. There were specks
of yellow in these fields, and Kitty who finished her sandwiches first,
ran to inspect nearer and reported cowslips. Instantly most of the girls
went scrambling over the stile.
Miss Strong, who had bought picture-postcards of the Roman villa, and
was addressing them with a stylo-pen, did not follow the exodus. She
called to Ingred, however, who was last.
"Warn the girls," she said, "not on any account to go into that meadow
where there is a horse with a young foal. The guide at the farm said it
is a savage beast and will attack people. Be sure to tell them _all_!"
"I'll run after them now," answered Ingred, calling "Cuckoo!" to attract
their attention.
She told Belle and Linda and Verity, who were near to the stile, and
Linda passed the news on to Francie and Kitty. Bess was quite a long
distance down the field, gathering blackthorn from the hedge.
"I'm not going to tear all that way after her!" thought Ingred crossly.
"Verity will be sure to tell her. They seem inseparable to-day. Besides
which nobody's particularly likely to go into that other meadow. There
are plenty of cowslips here."
It took Miss Strong a much longer time to write her postcards than she
had
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