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When Roxy reached the wall she climbed to its top and stood looking anxiously along the gray road that skirted a wooded hill, and in a few moments a brown horse, harnessed to a light wagon, and driven by a bareheaded girl whose red hair gleamed in the June sunshine, trotted into sight and came rapidly down the hill.

“There she comes! There’s Polly!” exclaimed Roxy scrambling down the rough wall, and hurrying across the little field to the side of the road where she stood eagerly awaiting the approach of her new friend, Polly Lawrence, and in a few minutes the brown horse stopped directly beside her, and the red-haired girl called out:

“Here we are, little Yankee girl; jump in,” and she reached down a strong brown hand to help Roxy climb into the wagon.

“This is splendid!” Roxy declared happily, as she pushed herself well back on the broad seat, and looked up admiringly at the tall girl beside her.

Polly smiled, her white teeth reminding Roxy of the string of pearl beads that her mother sometimes wore, and as she looked at her companion she realized that everything about Polly seemed to hold the light and the glimmer of sunshine. Not only did Polly’s waving hair hold golden gleams, but there were twinkling lights in her blue eyes, and her skin seemed to glow, and her teeth to shine.