“Oh, dear! I hope they’ll ask me if I don’t want a drink of water,” she whispered to herself, as she left the highway and started up the lane.
But Roxy had gone only a little way when the sharp bark of a dog, quickly echoed by several others, made her stop suddenly and as she looked up the lane she saw a number of dogs come dashing toward her. Their barks sounded very threatening to the tired little girl, and for a moment Roxy was tempted to turn and run, but she was too tired, and she quickly remembered that these dogs must belong to the Hinhams and, as there were three little girls in the family, the dogs would not be surprised to see another little girl, so Roxy walked bravely on toward them.
A sharp whistle brought the dogs to a standstill, and Roxy saw a tall boy come hurrying toward her.
“Lucky I was close by,” he muttered; “those dogs don’t like strangers! Say!” and he smiled approvingly on Roxy. “You had some courage to walk right along toward ’em! How’d you know they wouldn’t eat you up?”
“I guess I was too tired to run away,” confessed Roxy, and before she could say that she had come to visit the little Hinham girls the tall boy exclaimed:
“I’ll bet you’re the little Yankee girl, ain’t you?”
Roxy nodded. She was almost too tired to speak.
“Well, we’re sure glad you came over,” the boy continued, his black eyes twinkling with friendliness as he clasped Roxy’s hand and led her up the rough lane.
“My name is Roland,” he announced, “Roland Hinham, and I’m the oldest of the family, nearly fifteen,” and he smiled again; and the tired Roxy thought the tall boy must be very good-natured; he seemed always smiling.
“My name is Roxana Elizabeth Delfield,” she responded, “and I’m ten years old.”
“You’re older than my sisters. Jasmine isn’t nine yet, and Myrtle is seven, and Ivy about five. They are all little girls,” replied Roland.
“What pretty names!” exclaimed Roxy admiringly, but before she could say anything more the three little Hinham girls came out on the porch of the house and stood looking at their brother and the little girl who clung to his hand.
“I’ve brought you a visitor,” Roland called, and in a moment Roxy found herself at the porch steps, and heard Roland say: “Jasmine, this is Miss Roxana Elizabeth Delfield, come to visit us,” and instantly the three little girls, each one of whom was dressed in a stiffly starched white muslin dress, made a curtsy to the newcomer and announced in soft musical voices: “We’re right pleased to see you,” and Jasmine, whose eyes and hair were as black as Roland’s, drew forward a small rush-bottomed rocking-chair and with a smile as friendly as her brother’s said: “Won’t you sit down?” and Roxy, too tired to say a word in response, sank into the comfortable chair while the three dark-haired girls in their white dresses gathered about her, and looked at her a little wonderingly.