Anne objected. She had found the treehouse and it was hers; the others
were to play there all they pleased; but she would go straight home
unless the boxwood was to remain, as it had always been, her "private
property," as she proudly said.
For answer, Dunlop fitted an arrow on his bow and rushed in, yelling,
"You squaw! This is my papa's place. You get out of my wigwam. Get out,
I say."
Without a word, Anne gathered up Honey-Sweet and marched off, with her
chin in the air. For a whole long week she did not come to 'Roseland.'
Worst of all, on Saturday she played all afternoon with the other girls
on the 'Home' grounds, without once looking over the hedge.
Arthur threw himself into Martha's arms. "I want my Anne," he sobbed, "I
want her to come back. 'Lop's a bad, bad boy to make my Anne go 'way."
Shortly before teatime, Anne left the other girls and without seeming to
see any one beyond the hedge, sat down just out of earshot and began to
tell Honey-Sweet a story. This was more than could be borne. Arthur
wailed aloud.
Suddenly Dunlop broke his way through the hedge, stopped just in front
of Anne, and screamed: "It's your old house. You come on.
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