As Myrtle sang she danced about the swing, followed by little Ivy; and in a moment Jasmine laughingly followed, all three of the girls joining in the song as they circled about the swing where Roxy sat smiling delightedly.
“Sing some more!” she exclaimed, as she left the swing and danced on behind the others, and Jasmine nodded, and began:
“Every leaf on every bough Dances now, dances now.”
As the girls danced they bowed to the left and right, with graceful movements that Roxy endeavored to imitate, and the group made a pretty picture.
Roland had returned to his work, and when the girls tired of dancing Myrtle suggested that perhaps Roxy would like to see the flock of bantams, and led the way to the group of farm buildings at some distance from the house where Roxy exclaimed over the tiny bantam chickens.
“You can have a pair if you want them,” said Myrtle. “When we come over to see you we’ll bring you a pair,” she promised.
Roxy’s face flushed with pleasure as she thanked her new friend; and when they all wandered to the pasture that Roxy might see the three gray ponies that belonged to the little Hinham girls Roxy told herself that Jasmine and Myrtle and Ivy were the most fortunate girls in the world.
“You have everything,” she declared admiringly, as they returned to the shady porch where Nonny promptly brought them glasses of raspberry shrub and tiny frosted cakes.
“Yes, indeed!” said Jasmine, and Myrtle and Ivy both nodded and smiled. They felt rather sorry for their visitor because she did not have a brother like Roland and small sisters to play with.
The tall clock in the front room struck four, and, with a little exclamation of surprise, Roxy said she must at once start for home.
“Roland is going to drive you over; he said he would,” Jasmine told her, and in a short time the two gray ponies harnessed to a pretty basket-phaeton trotted up to the porch and Roland helped Roxy to a seat beside him, while Jasmine, Myrtle and Ivy all promised to return her visit as soon as their mother came home.
“It’s the nicest visit I ever had!” Roxy called back to them, as the ponies trotted briskly off toward the highway.
“If you please I will get out at the bridge,” Roxy had told Roland, as the gray ponies trotted swiftly over the road that had seemed so endless a distance to Roxy only a few hours earlier. “I left a basket near the brook, and I can go home across the pasture,” she explained; and at the bridge Roland bade her good-bye, promising that his sisters would soon return her visit.