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Molesworth, Mrs., 1839-1921

"An Old Fashioned Story"


For even now it was barely dawn, and the air felt chilly, as is
generally the case early of a May morning.
Diana walked so fast, though she had a big basket as well as a little
girl in her arms, that Duke, though he would not have owned it, could
scarcely keep up with her. But at last, just as he was beginning to feel
he must cry mercy, she slackened her pace and began to look about her.
"He should be somewhere near," she said, more as if speaking to herself
than to the children, and just then, with a sort of whoop, out tumbled
Tim from the other side of a low hedge, where there was a dry ditch in
which he had been comfortably lying.
"Hush!" said Diana, glancing round her.
"There's no need," said Tim; "there's not a soul within hearing. I
needn't have come on before for that matter. No one saw us start."
"And which way do you go now?" asked the gipsy, setting Pamela down as
she spoke, to the child's great satisfaction, though she had not liked
to say to Diana that she was really too big to be carried.
"Straight on for about half a mile," answered the boy; "then there's a
road to the right takes us straight to the canal. It's not light enough
yet for you to see, but there's a little house close to the towing path
over there, where the boats often stop the night when it's crowded in
the town.


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