Elsie Gray followed, eager enough, too, to show her honours to the
boy-friend, whose golden opinions she dearly loved to win. There was a
pink flush on her usually pale cheek, as she glanced about in search of
Geordie when they reached the field, panting and breathless after their
race. But no Geordie was visible anywhere, and the field was quite empty
and tenantless. Then Jean remembered, what she had forgotten in her
excitement, that Geordie was to be herding at the hillocks to-day, and
so she started off to find him, forgetful that his present post was
forbidden ground.
The girls were not long in reaching the stepping-stones, and presently
Jean was at Geordie's side, dancing round him with wild cries of
delight, as she flourished her gay prize in his rather bewildered eyes.
He had been lying with his face resting on his hands, on one of the soft
knolls of turf, looking at the sunset, and thinking of the new lands of
which he had lately been hearing from Walter Campbell. He seemed so
possessed by his own thoughts and reveries that he heard no sound of
coming footsteps till he looked up suddenly, and saw little Jean by his
side. He jumped up from the turf, and began to look wistfully towards
the river side to see if there was nobody else besides Jean coming to
enliven a lonely hour.
Elsie had crossed the stepping-stones, and was moving towards the
hillock on which he stood, with her sun-bonnet in one hand, and her
heavy armful of shining prize books in the other with the golden sun's
rays falling on her.
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