The morning had deepened into late forenoon before—going a little way, and resting a little while, and going on again, and stopping a moment to cry, and talking to the baby—Sally gave herself up to rest.
She had come to a place of velvet grass, a glen, that although shut in with green hills, yet gave her a sense of being high in clear sweet air. A stream trickled over some upper cliff in a thin waterfall that gave a murmuring sound. And as the baby was fretting, Sally thought it might be time for his second dinner; and almost before he had finished it, braced by the mountain air and weary with her walk, she fell as sound asleep as the baby did.
Sally opened her eyes an hour or two afterwards to behold, bending over her, the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
It was a golden-haired child with big blue eyes shining out of a flushed and smiling, wondering face.
Sally had heard somewhere, she did not know where, but very vaguely, of such a place as Heaven, of such a thing as an angel. Now she lay there on the soft warm grass, and looked up at the velvet blue sky, and smelled the wind wandering by laden with the breath of the wild sweet-brier, and remembered the wings of the low-darting birds, the murmur of the waterfall, and she came to the instant conclusion that this was Heaven, and that so her mother was not far off.
“Say! Be youse an angel?” she whispered.
“Oh, I’m Ally!” answered the little creature. “I’ve come to find you. You’re one of the Children of the Hill, I suppose, and here’s the baby, the very baby! Come with me quick! Aunt Susan wants the baby!”
“What!” cried Sally in alarm. “It ain’t Heaven den?”
“Why, no,” said Ally. “It’s Green Ridge. It’s the basin where we have picnics.”
“Who’s Aunt Susan?”
“Why, she’s—she’s Aunt Susan at the house. She’s real sweet. And she wants the baby.”
“Is it de ’Statution down there?’
“It’s the farm,—Old Uncle’s farm,” said Ally, “and Uncle Billy’s farm.”
“Oh, de farm-school!” cried Sally, sure now of evil mischance. “Well, I ain’t goin’, and you can tell ’em so!”
“Oh, but I want you to! I live down there—I’m one of the Children of the Valley. We have beautiful times. We learn lessons, a little while mornings, and then we have beautiful times. We’re all learning to swim, and we had fireworks the Fourth of July. And there’s Essie and Janet and Jack and”—just then old Brindle went across a pasture down below. “You aren’t afraid of cows, are you?”
“I ain’t afraid o’ nothin’,” said Sally defiantly.
“I’ve got a little cow of my own. Wouldn’t you like a little cow? I’ll give you mine,” said Ally fervently. “And Essie has a cat, Erminie; and she brings her kittens into the house for us to see. And there’s beautiful dogs. And we take rides on a pony—Uncle Billy holds us on; you shall have my turn. And we feed the hens—there’s a darling white hen with fifteen chickens,” went on the little coaxer. “And we have gardens and make flowers grow. Do the Children of the Hill make flowers grow? Essie and Janet think they do.”
“Who’s de Childurn o’ de Hill?” asked Sally. “Youse sure it ain’t no bloomin’ Statution down there?”
“I don’t know anything about a ’Statution. It’s Old Uncle’s farm.”
“Perhaps it’s a Fresh Air farm?” said Sally. “I know w’ot dat is. I was to a Fresh Air farm once. You bet it was nice!”
“This is nice,” urged Ally. “’Tis a Fresh Air farm, I guess,” she said triumphantly. “And Diane makes us such nice cakes, and gives us honey. There’s lots of ’licious things down there.”
“Do youse play tag?” interrupted Sally.
“And goal, and ball, and Old Man’s Castle, and see-saw, and—and—Essie’ll give you her other doll if you’ll come, and I’ll help carry the baby down for you! Oh, isn’t he a dear! I love a baby—a baby’s better than a doll. You brought him back on purpose to Aunt Susan, didn’t you?”
And then Ally’s arms were thrown round Sally, and she was kissing the poor little bewildered face.
“I guess I’ll come,” said Sally, struggling up. “I want to see dis Aunt Susan.”
They hurried on for a long way, down hill all the time, round a thicket, through a shivering birch wood, and taking turns carrying the baby.