He rode over to Cliffmore last Saturday.
That's a week ago, and don't you know it was a stormy day? Well, that's
why we didn't go with him."
Sprite nodded her head wisely as she spoke, and the sunbeams danced
on her rippling hair.
"And I'll tell you something I've thought of," she said. "It was Friday
after school that I asked him about sending it, and he said we'd all
take the trip to Cliffmore. And when Saturday came it was so stormy
we couldn't go. I didn't say a thing, but I must have looked
disappointed, for he said: 'Cheer up, little Sprite, for your prize
shall reach Cliffmore to-day. I'm going over there, and I'll take it
with me.'
"_Now_ I believe he wouldn't have gone so far on such a day for himself.
I think he went for me."
"It would be just like Uncle John to do that," Rose said. "He's always
doing something to make people happy."
As if to prove that his little niece spoke truly, he now appeared on
the road in his big motor car, laughing when he espied the three
playmates, and gaily calling:
"Has anyone seen a small girl straying around this part of Avondale?
Girl with brown curls, and rosy cheeks, answers to the name of Rose?"
"You needn't laugh, Uncle John, for truly I was afraid Great Aunt Rose
would try to make you say that I must spend, at least, a part of my
time with her, and oh, I didn't want to.
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