"Ben Barker, you are just the worst tease," said Edna, tousling his hair. "You've just got to tell us after rousing our curiosity."
"Oh, I am willing to tell you if you really want to know, but I thought you didn't. It was a large piece of driftwood."
"Oh, you mean, mean thing!" Edna began to pommel him with her fist and the others joined in.
106"See here," cried Ben, "three against one isn't fair, is it, Mr. Ramsey?" he appealed to that gentleman who just then came in.
Mr. Ramsey laughed. "I see it is high time to come to your rescue. Are you ready? If so, I am at your service."
Ben shook himself free of the little girls, picked them up one after another and tossed them in a heap among the cushions of the divan, then strode off in Mr. Ramsey's wake.
The girls, laughing and squealing, crawled out from the cushions to run after the departing figures, but these had already gone too far to be overtaken and they returned to watch them row off.
In about an hour they were back again, bringing a third person. It was Edna who first caught sight of the approaching boat. "I see the boat coming," she sang out, "and there are three persons in it. Oh, girls, I know who is coming; it is Uncle Justus. I know him by his whiskers and his eyebrows, though he isn't wearing a hat, but a funny cap. Do come and see."
"Let's go down to the landing and meet them," proposed Jennie.
This was at once agreed upon and the three little girls went flying across the sands, so as to be on hand when the boat should come up. It seemed very queer to see Uncle Justus in yachting cap and flannels when he had always appeared in most severe dress, and never on any occasion wore such a107frivolous thing as a cap. He appeared to have thrown off some of his dignity, too, for he stepped ashore with much agility and actually ran up the long board landing to meet Edna.
"Well, well, well, little girl," he cried, "isn't this a great meeting?"
"It is just fine," returned Edna. "I am mighty glad to see you, Uncle Justus. Are you glad to see me?"
"Not a doubt of it. Did you ever expect to see your old uncle sporting around with a lot of college boys? I am continually surprising myself by saying or doing something I had forgotten, and which belongs properly to youth. They are a great set, those college boys."
By this time Jennie and Dorothy had come up and were given hearty greetings. Professor Horner in the character of a yachtman was rather a different person from the grave and severe schoolmaster whose school they attended. As for Edna, she was so divided between her desire to be with her favorite cousin Ben and with Uncle Justus, of whom she was very fond, that she swung between her two desires like a pendulum till Ben caught her and pretended he was going to throw her overboard because she would not walk with him up to the house. By the time this pretended squabble was over Uncle Justus was well ahead with Mr. Ramsey, so the three little girls attended Ben like satellites.
108"You're going to stay to dinner, Mr. Horner said so," Jennie told Ben in a satisfied voice.
"And do you know what we are going to do to-morrow?"
"No. What are you going to do?"
"We are going to have our breakfast on the yacht." Ben gave this information as if it were a great piece of news.
"But I thought you always did that."
"So we do."
Jennie looked puzzled, but Edna laughed. It was so like cousin Ben to do that way. "It is so nice to have you here," said Edna, fondling the hand that held hers. She and the others had settled it that as Ben was her own cousin she had prior claim to his right hand and the other two hung on his left arm, getting in one another's way a great deal in an effort to establish an equal right.
Ben's presence at the lunch table kept the little girls in a state of giggles, which was aggravated by the inquiring look Uncle Justus would give them over his spectacles once in a while, as if he would say, Why all this merriment when there is no apparent cause?
It was at the lunch table that Mr. Ramsey proposed a sailing party for the next afternoon. "I have been promising these young people for some time that I would take them out," he said. "Old Cap'n Si has a good boat, and Mrs. Ramsey has promised109we shall have a supper to take with us. Gosling Island is a pretty place, and I think you will all enjoy the sail. What do you say, Mr. Horner? Will you and Ben go with us?"
"I cannot speak for my young friend," replied Mr. Horner, "but for myself, I should be delighted to go, especially as you and your good lady are to be my shipmates."
At the words "good lady," Ben opened his eyes very wide at Edna and she collapsed into a fresh attack of giggles while Ben turned gravely to Mr. Ramsey to say, "And I shall be delighted, too, Mr. Ramsey. I think it will give the boys on the yacht a treat if I spare them my presence for one afternoon."
"Now, Benjamin, you are entirely too modest," said Mr. Horner. "He is quite the life of the party, Mr. Ramsey, I assure you. They will not miss an old fogy like me, but young blood like Ben's gives a great infusion of spirits."
The little girls stole a glance at Ben. He had meekly folded his hands and was looking down with such an expression of humility that not only the little girls but Mrs. Ramsey had to laugh. Truly it was anything but a solemn meal.
The next day dawned bright and fair to the delight of three rather anxious little girls who were fearful lest gray skies would put a stop to any plans for the sailing party. But alas, as the day wore on it became more and more doubtful whether110one of the three little maids would be able to go, for Edna, who waked with a little headache, became worse and worse, and by lunch time found it would be impossible for her to eat anything, and could be comfortable only when lying down. She was so disappointed and tried to persuade herself that the feeling of dizziness would pass away, and that she would be better by the time they were ready to start.
However, it was Mrs. Ramsey who finally decided that she must not think of going. "Dearie," she said, "I am much afraid you would be worse for going. It isn't everyone who can go in a sailing vessel without being seasick, and I am a little doubtful for Dorothy and Miss Eloise, but in your present condition I am very sure it would be anything but a pleasure to you."
Jennie who stood by listening with much concern, spoke up. "Couldn't we put it off, Mother?"
"I think we can promise to go another time, but not with the same party, for the yacht will continue her cruise up the coast, so Ben tells me, and will not be here after to-morrow morning. Your father wants particularly to have Mr. Horner go with us, you see—"
"Then I'm not going," said Jennie decidedly.
Edna raised herself on her elbow. "Indeed you must," she said. "I think it is lovely of you, Jennie, to want to stay, but you see, I couldn't play or do anything but lie still, and I should be very unhappy111if you were to stay on my account. Please say she must go, Mrs. Ramsey. If she stays, then Dorothy will think she must and it will spoil it for so many that it wouldn't do at all."
"I think Jennie ought to go," said Mrs. Ramsey, after a moment's thought, "for we have asked Mrs. Duncan and her little girl, but I shall stay to take care of you."
Edna raised her head again. "Oh, but Mrs. Ramsey, that will be just as bad. I am not so ill as that, indeed I am not. It is only that I feel dizzy when I raise my head. If I keep very quiet I may be well by the time you can get back. Besides, if it isn't polite for Jennie to stay home because you have invited Grace Duncan, then it wouldn't be polite for you because you have invited Mrs. Duncan."
Mrs. Ramsey smiled at this laying down of the law, but continued, "I am sure our friends will understand why I am not going when it is explained to them."
"Oh, but," Edna went on, "I shall be much sicker if you stay, because I shall feel as if it were all on my account. It makes me sicker just to think of it. Please, dear Mrs. Ramsey, go. Emma can take care of me and I shall not want anything, but just to keep still."
She looked so imploring and was really so distressed that Mrs. Ramsey wavered. "I am sure it is not a very serious illness," she admitted, "and112Emma is really a very good nurse. I could leave word with her to telephone for the doctor if you were to grow worse, I suppose."
"Oh, yes, that will be all right, and I shall not be any worse unless you stay at home."
"In that case," returned Mrs. Ramsey smiling, "it would seem the wisest plan for me to go. I will tell Emma to keep within hearing. She can take her mending in the next room and sit there, or would you rather lie on the divan in the living-room?"
"I'll stay here for awhile, and if I get better I can go down there," Edna decided.
So, in due course of time they all left her, with many protestations, and loving farewells. "If you can get to sleep," said Mrs. Ramsey, "I think you will wake up feeling better. Emma can darken the room and it will be very quiet."
So off they went, and Edna turned with a little sigh of regret and tried to compose herself to sleep. She closed her eyes and presently heard Emma tip-toeing about the room, softly drawing down the shades. After all it was rather pleasant and restful to lie there undisturbed, to know that nothing was expected of her, and that she did not have to pretend to feel better than she really was. Her head did not ache so badly when she kept perfectly still, and there was Emma near at hand if she should want anything. She heard the gentle plash of the water on the beach, and once in a while the distant113"Putter, putter" of a motor-boat, but that was all. She wondered if Ben would miss her. She was sure Uncle Justus would. They were all getting in the boat now, and now they were sailing off, sailing off, and presently Edna herself sailed off, too, into the sea of Dreams.
For about half an hour the child slept peacefully. Once or twice Emma stole softly in to find her with hand under a cheek, now rather pale, and with red lips half-smiling as if in a pleasant dream. "Bless the child, it's nothin' but a sick-headache," whispered Emma. "She'll be all the better for the sleep." At the end of the half hour Edna stirred, sighed, opened her eyes and then sat up. The dizzy feeling was nearly gone.
Emma came to the door. "Well," she said, "and how are you feeling?"
"A good deal better," said Edna cheerfully. "I think I'll get up and go down to the living-room, Emma."
"Do you feel equal to it?" asked Emma.
"Oh, yes I think I do. Besides the sun is coming in here now, and I've been here all day, so I'd like a change."
"Then I'll tell you there's someone down there waiting for you. He wouldn't have you disturbed, but said I was to bring him word when you waked up. He's been there about a quarter of an hour, I should say, but he said he would amuse himself115with the papers and magazines, and you were not to hurry on his account."
This didn't sound as if it could be Louis, as Edna at first supposed it might be. He had not been asked to go on the sailing party, and could easily have come over. "It isn't my cousin Louis Morrison, is it?" she asked.
"No, it's the owld gintleman with the eyebrows. I don't just remember the name."
"Why, it must be Uncle Justus," cried Edna getting up with alacrity. "He was to have gone sailing with the others. I wonder why he didn't go. Is it the gentleman who was here to lunch yesterday, Emma?"
"That very same."
"Oh, then I'll go right down."
She slowly descended the stairs. After all her head did still feel a little queer, and she was rather faint from eating nothing since breakfast, so she did not enter the room with her usual animation, and Uncle Justus did not see her till she had nearly reached his side. Then he looked up over his spectacles. "Well, well, well," he cried, "how is my little girl feeling?"
He held out his arms and Edna went to him. "I'm feeling a little better," she said, as he took her on his knee and settled her comfortably with her head against his shoulder.
116"Poor little lamb," he murmured, "poor little lamb. I am so sorry—we were all sorry to hear about the headache."
"But, Uncle Justus, I thought you were going on the sailing party."
"So I was, my dear, but I couldn't have enjoyed it knowing you were here without your mother or any of your family. I know little folks like their mothers when they are not feeling well, and though I couldn't in any way take the place of your mother, I wanted to come and look after you a little."
Edna put up a hand and softly stroked the cheek above the curled grey whisker, and even a part of the whisker itself. "I think it was dear of you to do that, but Uncle Justus, I am afraid Mr. Ramsey was disappointed not to have you go, and I did not mind so very much being alone. I did want mother awfully, when I was feeling the sickest, but I tried to think how lovely everyone was to me, and of how nice it was to be in this lovely cool place by the sea, instead of in the hot city, and I didn't feel so."
Uncle Justus murmured something which Edna couldn't quite make out, something about babes and sucklings which really did not appear to have much to do with the subject.
"Aren't you really disappointed about not going on the sailing party?" she asked presently.
"No, my dear. I prefer to be here. Besides, do you remember a little girl who gave up having her117Thanksgiving at home that she might share a lonely dinner with her old uncle? If you have forgotten, I have not."
"Oh, but," returned Edna, quite embarrassed, for the little girl was none other than herself, "you see you were quite well, and didn't have a headache." Just what this had to do with it was rather puzzling and Uncle Justus smiled at the attempted argument.
Then they fell into talking about various things, and in the course of the conversation Edna told of her adventure in the fog, of how scared she had been, and how fearful lest Louis were drowned. Uncle Justus listened attentively, and asked such adroit questions that though Edna tried to shield Louis, she knew that Uncle Justus was aware of everything that had happened. He was Louis's Uncle Justus as well as Edna's.
When the story was ended Uncle Justus was silent for a time, but he stroked Edna's hair thoughtfully. At last he said half to himself, "I shall have to have a talk with the boy's mother. He will be ruined if something is not done." And then Emma came in to know if Mr. Horner would have tea, and then since he declined this, she asked if he would dine with Miss Edna.
"Oh, you will, Uncle Justus, won't you," begged Edna.
"I will if you would like me to," he said simply.
So Edna sat up straight and said, "He will stay, Emma, but you must give him more than I am to118have, for Mrs. Ramsey said I'd better not eat anything very hearty."
"You were to have some broth and toast, Miss Edna," Emma told her, "and if you wanted more before bedtime I was to give you some hot milk."
"But they will be back by bedtime, Emma, I am sure."
"Very well, miss. I will see that the gentleman has something proper."
She went out and Edna, feeling that she had been coddled long enough, took a seat on a low chair, and pretty soon dinner was announced, the two eating it very happily together. Edna had her chicken broth and toast for which she was quite ready by this time, declaring that she was actually hungry and that her head was steadily getting better.
As she had predicted, it was not bedtime when the sailing party returned, full of their doings. Edna was ready with plenty of questions and was told how Miss Eloise proved to be a good sailor, and had enjoyed the trip immensely, of how Ben and Mr. Ramsey had carried her ashore bodily, of how they had made a fire and cooked their supper, and last of all, how they had all missed her.
It was after Ben and Uncle Justus had departed for the yacht that Edna watching the lights in the harbor, heard Mr. Ramsey say, "We saw Mr. Horner in a new light to-day. Who could ever imagine him so tenderly anxious about his little119niece? He always seemed rather a cold undemonstrative person to me. I was certainly surprised when he insisted upon returning that he might be with Edna in our absence."
"I was rather surprised myself," responded Mrs. Ramsey, "though now I remember it, Jennie has told me that he is devoted to Edna, and though all his other pupils stand in awe of him, that she alone seems to have no fear. He must have a tender heart, for all his bushy eyebrows and stern exterior."
The twinkling lights in the harbor were still shining when the little girls went to bed, but before morning a wilder light was blazing from the point where old Cap'n Si's little house stood, and, the next morning when the children looked across to where yesterday they had seen the old man sitting on the bench outside his door, the smoke curling from the chimney and the flowers in his little garden making a brave showing, they beheld but a heap of blackened ruins.
Jennie was the first to see it and ran to her father who had just come down. "Oh, Papa," she cried, "just come here. There isn't any Cap'n Si's house any more."
"What's that?" said her father joining her at the window where she stood.
"Just look."
Mr. Ramsey did look but he saw only the charred bits of wood from which a slight smoke was rising.120"That's bad, very bad," he said shaking his head. "Why it was only last night that he was telling us that he was born in that house and hoped to die in it. I wonder how it could have happened. I hope no one was hurt. Who lives with him, daughter? Do you remember?"
"His daughter and her family, Bert is the oldest; he is off fishing in Captain Eli Brown's boat, then there is Louberta, but she's married. Amelia comes next, and then there's little Si, and Kitty is the youngest. They haven't any father, for he was lost at sea two years ago."
"I remember, I remember. It is all very sad. I must go over as soon as I have had some breakfast and we will see what is to be done."
As one after another came down the news of the fire was told, and Mrs. Ramsey declared she must go with her husband to find out all about it. So they started off in the automobile as soon as breakfast was over, leaving three deeply interested little girls. There was no talk of calling Cap'n Si that morning, for he would not be looking for the flag to be run up, instead he was lying helpless on a cot, his hands swathed in cotton, and his stubbly beard singed by the fire he had vainly tried to put out.
It was two hours before Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey returned, and then it was to tell a sorrowful tale. A lamp burning in one of the two little upper rooms had been overturned by one of the children very121early in the morning, and before the full danger was realized the house was in flames. Fortunately no one was very seriously hurt, Cap'n Si was badly scorched, and his hands showed some bad burns, but the doctor had pronounced these not so very deep. Everything in the house was consumed, however, and the family were destitute and homeless.
The children gathered around Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey listening with absorbed interest. "What will they do, Papa?" asked Jennie. "They have nowhere to go and no clothes and no furniture. Oh, dear, isn't it dreadful?"
"Some of their neighbors have taken them in temporarily, and as soon as needs be we shall gather up whatever can be spared in the way of clothing for them. Then there is a plan on foot to get up a bazar in order to collect money for their furniture when they shall have another house."
"How will they be able to build a house? I know they are very poor."
"We hope enough money will be subscribed for that. Everyone respects Cap'n Si, and we think there will be enough forthcoming to build a house sufficiently large for their needs."
"Has papa subscribed?"
"Yes, dear; it was he who started the subscription paper."
"Were none of the children hurt at all?" asked Edna.
122"One of them, the youngest was slightly burned, for she was asleep when the fire broke out. It was in saving her that Cap'n Si was burned."
"Are they going to ask those young men on the yacht to give something?" asked Edna. "They are not going off till this afternoon, you know."
"We didn't think of them, did we?" said Mrs. Ramsey to her husband.
"That is true, we didn't and most of them can well afford to make a contribution. I will see McAllister myself."
"What can we do?" asked Dorothy wistfully.
"Oh, yes, we want to help, of course," chimed in Jennie. "I will give all the money I have left of my allowance, Mother, and all that is coming to me for the rest of the time we are here."
"I think you'd better allow yourself a little, dear child, but I am sure papa will advance you whatever he thinks is right for you to give."
"I think I could give a dollar," said Edna after a pause. "I have that much, and I am sure I don't have to spend it for I have six postage stamps, that will make two a week till I get back home. Would a dollar do any good, Mrs. Ramsey?"
"It would do a great deal of good, but instead of giving the money outright how would you children like to buy materials to make fancy articles for the bazar? In that way I haven't a doubt but you would get a better return."
123"I think that would be a fine plan," said Dorothy, for, to tell the truth, her savings were of small account, and as she calculated she told herself that thirty-five cents would be the very limit. Money always burned a hole in Dorothy's pocket, and it was hard for her to pass a candy shop without spending her pennies. Mrs. Ramsey knew this and knew also that while Dorothy was quite as generous as the other two she would have less to offer.
Both Jennie and Edna agreed with Dorothy that it was a very good plan to spend the money in this way and they at once began to plan what they should buy.
"I think we all might make a trip to Boston in a day or two," said Mrs. Ramsey. "How would you like that? I think we might spend our money to better advantage there."
"That would be simply perfect," cried one and another.
All this had made everyone entirely lose sight of Edna's headache and it was not till Ben came in to say good-bye that anyone remembered it. "Well, Ande," he said, "how's that head? A pretty trick you played on us yesterday."
"I didn't play any trick. It was my head played me a trick."
"Oh, that was the way, was it? Well, how is the tricky head to-day?"
"Why, it is about well, I think."
124"But you are not sure. I've known heads to act that way before. Let me see how you look." He turned her around to the light. "A little pale I should say. Did you eat any breakfast?"
"Oh, yes, I ate an egg and some milk-toast."
"Good enough. I reckon you'll do for a while. I say, wasn't it great for Uncle Justus to sneak away from us all in that way? I didn't think it was in the old chap. He wouldn't budge any more than a balky mule. Soon as he heard you were alone and laid up with a headache off he must trot in the other direction."
"I think it was perfectly lovely of him," said Edna earnestly.
"So it was, Pinky Blooms—by the way, you aren't Pinky Blooms to-day. To tell you the truth if Uncle Justus hadn't made up his sedate mind to come, yours truly intended to say ta-ta to the sailing party himself."
"Oh, Ben, did you really?"
"Yes, my lady, though it is too late in the day to make boastful vaunts, and it would have spoiled Uncle Justus's little game if both of us had come. Moreover, it wouldn't have been polite for all of us to have fled from the sailing party. You see Mr. McAllister took Uncle Justus's place and there would have been no one to take mine."
"Did you hear about the fire?" Edna asked next.
125"Indeed I did, and I am glad enough that a plan is on foot to raise money for those poor fisher people. I wonder who is receiving subscriptions. All the fellows chipped in and I have quite a wad here which I am instructed to turn over to the proper authorities."
"Oh, Mr. Ramsey is just the one, for he started the paper."
"Good! I'll get rid of it at once if you will help me find the gentleman."
Edna was only too ready to do this and together they hunted up Mr. Ramsey whom they found in the little room where he had his desk, and which was called the smoking-room.
It was indeed quite a roll of bills which Ben handed over. The boys said never mind specifying names, just say it is from the Pippin. "Nobody knows how much anybody gave. We just passed around the hat and this is the result."
"A pretty handsome result, I should say," remarked Mr. Ramsey much pleased. "At this rate we shall be able to put up as good a house as need be. Please thank the Pippin in the name of myself and the family of Cap'n Si."
"I'll do it, sir. The boys were glad to come up to scratch."
"I think it is very lucky the fire was last night instead of to-night," remarked Edna gravely.
"And why?" asked Ben.
126"Because if it hadn't been till to-night you all would be gone and then you wouldn't have passed around the hat."
Both Mr. Ramsey and Ben laughed at this subtle reasoning, and then Ben said he must say good-bye to Mrs. Ramsey, so they went out leaving Mr. Ramsey to other matters.
"I wish you would tell me why the yacht is called Pippin," said Edna.
"My dearest child, I see you do not make yourself acquainted with slang, and far be it from me to intrude it upon your youthful attention. If you were to ask Clem McAllister why he named it that he would say, 'Because she is such a pippin,' meaning a beauty, and that is all there is of it."
Edna understood by this that a pippin was another name for a beauty and was quite satisfied. She had two brothers of her own, and cousin Ben had passed the previous year at her home; therefore she was not at all unfamiliar with boyish slang.
The good-byes to Mrs. Ramsey and the other two little girls being made Ben took his departure, telling Edna she would see him early in the fall, and as Uncle Justus would not on any account leave without learning how Edna was, his was the next call. It was not a long one, for the yacht was to leave the harbor early and there was not much time left though Edna managed to tell about the fire and the bazar, and to send a great many messages to127all at home whom Uncle Justus would see before she herself would.
Edna felt a little homesick and lonely after these two relatives had left her. She was still a little the worse for her yesterday's illness, and wished for mother and Celia, for her father and the boys. It certainly would be very good to see them again, and she was glad that in two weeks she would be turning her face toward home. But these thoughts did not last long, for Jennie called her to come and see the pile of clothes her mother had laid aside for Cap'n Si's grandchildren, and began to tell of the many things which they could make for the bazar, so she was soon interested in all this.
"We are going to see Miss Newman and Miss Eloise after lunch," Jennie told her, "for we want to tell everyone about the bazar, and they will be so interested on account of Amelia."
"We might stop at the hotel, too," suggested Edna, "and I can tell my aunt about it, then she can tell the other people there and we might get a lot of things from them."
"That will be a fine plan," declared Jennie. "We will go with mother in the automobile for she wants to see Mrs. Duncan. A lot of ladies are to meet here to-morrow to make all the arrangements, and mother wants to tell Mrs. Duncan to come."
So there was quite enough on hand to drive away homesickness, and Edna started out with the rest with no thought of anything but the bazar and the promised trip to Boston.
The trip to Boston became such an important topic that you would have thought the bazar was planned merely on its account, and not that the trip was planned on the bazar's account. Each of the little girls made a careful list of the things she meant to buy, and everyone was consulted about these lists; even Emma's advice was asked.
They were to make an early start so as to have plenty of time for their own shopping and that which Mrs. Ramsey meant to do. So on the all important morning there was much bustling about and comparing of notes.
"What are you going to wear, Edna?" asked Dorothy.
"I thought I would put on my gray linen. What are you?"
"White, of course."
"Now why 'of course'? People don't always wear white when they are traveling."
"But this isn't exactly traveling; it's just going to the city and we're not more than an hour on the train."
129"Well, I don't care. I am going to wear the linen. At least I am going to ask Jennie what she is going to put on, for of course I shouldn't want both of you to wear white and me not."
"What are you going to wear, Jennie?" Dorothy called out to the next room.
"My blue linen, the embroidered one."
"There, what did I say?" exclaimed Edna in triumph.
"Well, anyhow, it is much more dressy than yours; it is more colory, and it is embroidered. I wouldn't wear that plain thing if I were you."
All this made doubts arise in Edna's own mind, and she sat disconsolately looking at the frock she had brought out to wear.
"You'd better hurry and get dressed and not sit there dreaming," Dorothy warned her.
"I wasn't dreaming," Edna contradicted, "I was just making up my mind. I might wear my Peter Thompson, only it might be too warm. I think I'd better go and ask Mrs. Ramsey." Suiting the action to the word she went to Mrs. Ramsey's door and tapped gently. Mrs. Ramsey herself opened to look down on the little figure in its pink wrapper. "Well, dear, what is it?" she said.
"I don't know just what to wear," Edna confessed. "You see mother always tells me. Dorothy thinks I ought to wear one of my white frocks and I think my gray linen would be better. I could wear130the Peter Thompson, but it is flannel and is pretty warm."
"Wear the linen by all means; it will be just the thing. You might take a little jacket of some kind and we can leave it at the station, in the package room, with my things. It may be cool coming back."
So Edna went off in triumph, donned her gray linen and was ready quite in time. She was too excited to eat much breakfast, and when they were told that Mack was at the door with the automobile she clutched her little handbag very tightly, for it contained the precious dollar which was to buy so many things that day. It was but a short distance to the station, but they were none too soon, for the train had whistled at the next station, and it seemed but a moment before they were aboard and on their way. The train was filled with men on their way to business, with ladies on their way to the city for a day's shopping, and there were a few who were bound for further places, their holiday over.
Edna, Jennie and Dorothy all sat together with Mrs. Ramsey a little further along in front. Edna wondered how the conductor would know who they were, for Mrs. Ramsey had a book of tickets. She thought maybe she would say, "I have the tickets for my little girl in the blue frock and the one sitting with her in gray, and there is another with fair hair dressed in white." Would the conductor think131they were all named Ramsey? She looked around her to see if there were any other little girls dressed in blue or gray or white, who might be mistaken for the right ones. But there was no trouble at all, for the conductor seemed to know intuitively and passed them by without so much as a question.
The big North station reached, the matter of shopping seemed very near, and there was some discussion as to where they should go first. Each little girl had determined to buy at least three dolls to dress; with the money that was left they would buy materials for fancy articles, for Mrs. Ramsey had promised them pieces enough for doll's clothes. The dolls being such a very important matter, it was decided to get these off their minds at once, and therefore to a big, though inexpensive shop they went.
Such a bewildering array as was laid before them nearly distracted them. There was such a choice between blue eyes and black, brown hair and golden. Then, too, it was not every doll that had a pretty face, or there might be two whose claims to beauty were equally great, but at last the nine dolls of different types were picked out. To these Mrs. Ramsey added three more on her own account, and that purchase was declared to be satisfactorily made.
Each little girl had decided to spend but half her money on dolls, though as Dorothy had but fifty cents to spend, her dolls did not make as much show as she would have liked, but the others comforted132her by saying that the small dolls were just as pretty as the large ones, and would probably be sold at once.
"I almost wish I had bought two little ones and two big ones," Edna said, "but I suppose it is too late now."
"If you had done that," said Jennie, "you couldn't have had the three shades of hair, and you did like those three so much."
"That is so," returned Edna, "I reckon I will let it go, but I don't see how I am going to give up any of them; they are all so pretty. I do love dolls."
"They are perfectly sweet," agreed Dorothy, "while Jennie's are even lovelier."
"They are bigger," said Edna, "but I don't think they are really any prettier, but Mrs. Ramsey's are perfectly magnificent. I wish I had Celia to help me dress mine; she does know how to make such pretty things."
"So does Agnes, but I tell you who will help us out, and that is Miss Eloise." Dorothy thought of this.
"So she will, though I expect she and Miss Newman will be busy making things themselves, for the bazar," replied Edna.
"But she can give us hints," Dorothy continued. "Oh, Edna, do you know I have thought of something."
"What?"
133"Why, we can write to our sisters and tell them about the bazar, and maybe they can make some things for it. We will ask them to. I know Agnes will."
"And I know Celia will. That is a lovely idea, but do you know, Dorothy, I have thought of something else that isn't a bit nice, and that is we won't have a penny to spend at the bazar ourselves."
"That is so. I never thought of it before. I shall hate to go and not buy a single thing, but it can't be helped and if we give the things we are getting to-day it will be the same as buying things."
This view of the matter satisfied Edna, and they followed Mrs. Ramsey and Jennie, who were walking ahead, into the next shop where they were to get ribbons, gilt paint and a variety of things.
By one o'clock they were quite tired out and were glad when Mrs. Ramsey proposed that they have some lunch before doing any more. So they were taken to a pleasant restaurant and ate with a relish the broiled steak, fried potatoes and salad which Mrs. Ramsey ordered. Then each chose her own dessert, Dorothy taking a chocolate eclair, Edna peach ice-cream and Jennie charlotte russe.
Then they started out again, and with Mrs. Ramsey's help managed to spend every penny to the best advantage, and that quite early in the afternoon, but they were tired enough to be ready to go when Mrs. Ramsey said they could get the four o'clock train. "Some day," she said, "we must come134down on a pleasure trip. We will have the motor-car, and can stay all night in town so you little girls can see something of the city. There is much that will interest you."
"Oh, do take them to see the glass flowers at Cambridge," cried Jennie.
"Yes, they shall see those, and we will go to old North Church which is made famous by Paul Revere's ride, and they shall see Lexington."
"Oh, yes, and mother, they must go to Concord where Louisa Alcott lived."
"That is a large order, as Ben would say, but I think we can manage it even if we have to stay two nights."
"Aren't we having the loveliest time?" whispered Edna to Dorothy.
Dorothy nodded, and took a peep at the three dolls which she had insisted upon carrying herself. The others were to be sent.
"I wish I had kept out one of mine," said Edna enviously; "it would be so nice to have it on the train to play with."
"I can't play with all three," said Dorothy generously, "so I can lend one to you and one to Jennie."
This was a fine plan, and the three little girls crowded into one seat on the train that they might have the satisfaction of playing with the little dolls which they dressed up in handkerchiefs. Such a135good time they had over them that Mrs. Ramsey had to call them twice when they reached their station. Then they hurried out, nearly tumbling over one another lest they be left in the train.
Mrs. Ramsey had telephoned Mack to meet them, so the three little dolls had their first ride in a motor-car and were the first of their company to arrive at the sea-shore. The children were so eager to get them dressed that they could scarcely wait for Mrs. Ramsey to get out her pieces. "Do, Mother, let us have them right away," begged Jennie.
"Don't you think you'd better wait till to-morrow when the other dolls will have come?"
"Oh, no, there is lots of daylight left, and we can help Dorothy dress these and then she can help us dress ours; it will be ever so much nicer that way. We are going to take them out on the porch and sew there."
"But, dearie, I think I ought to be with you, because these dolls for the bazar should be dressed very neatly, and not botchily as they might be if you were doing them merely for yourselves."
"Indeed, indeed we will try to be very neat."
"Can you cut out the things yourselves? To-morrow I thought I would let Emma help. She could do some of the work on the machine."
"But these littlest dolls don't need a machine. It will be lovely to have Emma help with the bigger136ones. Edna can cut out real nicely. Her Aunt Elizabeth taught her how to sew, and she is as neat, oh, just as neat as can be. I wish you could see."
"Very well, go along, then. I don't suppose it will do any harm since you are so very eager, and if I find they don't look well enough I can see to it afterward."
Jennie scouted the idea of their not looking well enough and bore off the bag of pieces in triumph, and a happy trio was soon established on the porch, work-bags in evidence and dolls carefully placed out of danger. Edna, who had been taught by her Aunt Elizabeth Horner to be very systematic, proposed that they first select their materials. "This white stuff will do for their underclothes," she told the others. "I'll put that aside and then you each choose what you want for frocks. Dorothy must choose first because they are her dolls."
"Then you choose second because you are company," said Jennie.
"We'll take turns, then," said Edna. "You can choose first when it comes to your dolls and Dorothy can be second, then when it comes to mine I will choose first, you can be second and Dorothy can be third." This was considered a very just arrangement and Dorothy began to turn over the pieces for her first choice.
"I think I should like this pretty piece of blue silky stuff," she said, "and I will dress the doll with the137middle colored hair; I think it will be becoming to her."
"Then I will take this little speckly piece for the doll with the lightest hair. She can have a pink sash and will look too sweet."
Jennie decided upon a thin bit of yellow for her doll of decidedly brunette type and they set to work.
"I can cut out for mine and then you two can cut yours exactly the same," Edna told them, "for the dolls are all the same size and it will be very easy." But the cutting out had scarcely begun before it was time for dinner and the dolls had to be put away till later in the evening when all should gather around the big table in the living-room.
However, after dinner it was found that the larger package had arrived, so of course this had to be opened, and what with talking over this and admiring that, it was bedtime before anyone knew it. But the dolls were all carried upstairs and were set a-row where the children could see them first thing in the morning. The bag of pieces was lugged along, too. "For we might want to get up early and work before breakfast," said Jennie with industrious intent.
But the breakfast hour arrived before the children were out of bed, so tired were they from their trip, and the row of staring dolls was given little attention in the haste to get dressed. After breakfast the piece bag was dragged out again. Emma's work was taken by one of the other servants and138the morning long hands and tongues were busy, so that by lunch time the three little dolls appeared nicely clad, and one of Edna's and one of Jennie's were nearly ready. To dress nine children was quite a task even for three little girls, especially as the children increased in size as the work progressed and though a skirt for a doll six inches long required but few stitches, when it came to one twice the size the fingers grew very tired.
"Suppose you don't do any more doll clothes to-day," said Mrs. Ramsey noticing the weary sighs. "You have done a fine morning's work, and to-morrow you can start in again. I think this afternoon you'd better take the pony and do some errands for me, and I will make a fair exchange by helping you with the dolls to-morrow."
This was such a sensible and just arrangement that the little girls readily agreed and started off in high spirits to leave an order here, take a note there, and finally to wind up with a call upon Miss Eloise, who, they knew, would be interested to know about their trip to the city.
"I was just thinking about you children," said Miss Eloise from the little porch of the bungalow, where she was sitting when they drove up. "I am going to have a sewing-bee to make things for the bazar, you know, and I want you all to come."
"Oh, lovely," cried they. "Tell us about it, Miss Eloise."
139"Day after to-morrow, it is to be, and those that have dolls to dress can bring them, or you can bring anything else, fancy work or anything. I can't sew very long at a time, but I can try to entertain you and can come in strong with advice." She laughed, and the girls crowded around her.
"Tell me about the trip to Boston," she went on. "How many dolls did you buy, and what else did you get? Sister and I have thought of several nice things to do for the bazar, and ever so many of the young people are going to help. Rudolph is going to donate some photographs and will take orders for others; then some of the boys are going into the woods for tiny little cedar and pine trees which we are going to plant in pots. Mrs. Morrison's sister has promised to make some paper dolls—I remember the beautiful one she made for Louis to send to you last year, Edna,—and, oh my, we are going to have a big time."
She stopped to take breath and the children began to tell of their trip to the city, of their purchases, and all the rest of it.
"If Ben were only here," said Miss Eloise when they had finished their account, "we might give the little play that the G. R. club gave at the close of the year, but we couldn't do it without him."
"Besides," said Jennie, "we are the only ones of the club who are here, and there wouldn't be enough time to get it up."
140"Why couldn't we do it when we go back?" suggested Edna. "We might sell tickets, you see, and get ever so many to come, for there were quantities of people who wanted to come last time, but we could invite only so many."
"Why, Edna, that is a great scheme," cried Miss Eloise. "It would be very little trouble, for those who took part before, as they all have their costumes and would only have to look over their parts. Let's tell sister." She called Miss Newman from the house and it was agreed that such a plan might easily be carried out. "And," said Miss Eloise, "it will be a true Golden Rule performance. Dear me, what wonderful things are happening all the time, now that I have come out of my shell."
This new idea was talked of all the way home and the children were so eager to tell Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey of it, that the little pony was urged on at his smartest pace. Of course Mrs. Ramsey was charmed at the new plan for raising funds for Cap'n Si, and Edna felt much pleased that she had thought of it. "Although," she said when she was praised for her quick wit, "I might not have thought of it if Miss Eloise had not spoken of how nice it would be to have it here."
"Then we'll give Miss Eloise her share of credit," said Mrs. Ramsey smiling at the child's honesty.
That evening was given to the winding of worsteds, the marking of designs, and the cutting out of various bits of card-board for certain fancy141articles. Four more dolls were dressed the next morning by the help of Mrs. Ramsey and Emma, and in the afternoon there was a sewing-bee on the bungalow porch, and more plans were made for the bazar. Mrs. Ramsey was present and organized an idea party to meet at her house the next day. Everyone was to bring an idea to be carried out at the bazar and so the ball was kept rolling and the work for the entertainment went forward in a way that promised a very successful affair. Dorothy and Edna did not fail to write home about the fire and the bazar and made their request for contributions of money or fancy articles. They watched eagerly for replies, and when these came in the shape of two letters apiece, they gave little squeals of delight, for both Mrs. Conway and Mrs. Evans wrote and enclosed a dollar to be spent at the bazar. "For," said the mothers, "we know you have taken all your spending money for the dolls and things, and will not have any to spend."
"Now I am perfectly happy," cried Edna. "Is yours a dollar, too, Dorrie?"
"Yes, a whole dollar. And Edna I think I shall buy back one of my own dolls. I love the one in blue so much that I just can't give her up."
"Maybe I will buy my dear one with the light hair," returned Edna. "I don't suppose a dollar would be enough to buy one of Mrs. Ramsey's beauties, though I believe I would rather have one of142those than anything in the world, even if I didn't have a cent to spend on anything else."
"Oh, but I think it would be more fun to spend the money for different things, and not for just one."
"But when the one is a doll like that exquisite creature in evening dress, with the cunning fan and the sweet little lace handkerchief, I think I'd be perfectly satisfied not to have another thing."
"You mean the one with the golden hair? She is a darling but although I like her dress, I think I would rather have the dark-haired one."
"That is because you have golden hair yourself; you always want dark-haired dolls, I notice." The two were sitting on the porch with Jennie just inside by the window busily working away at an embroidered centerpiece she was doing in outline. She did not join in the talk, but had long ago decided that her choice of the three handsome dolls would be the one with ruddy brown hair dressed in street costume with hat and feathers.
Her father, in whose smoking-room she was sitting, looked up with a smile as Jennie arose to join her friends. "Bless their dear little hearts," he said to himself. "I think they are about the sweetest three it has ever been my lot to see, and my own girl is the dearest of them all, even if she isn't quite the beauty Dorothy is."
So the days went by till the time came for the opening of the bazar. It was to be held in the little hall which served as a place of amusement for the community of summer visitors. Here concerts were given, dances took place, lecturers found a platform. On this occasion it was decorated with greens from the woods. Tea was served in a tent outside near a gypsy camp where pretended fortunes were told by a pretty girl with dark eyes, whose costume made one almost believe she really belonged to that wandering race. A bower of green in one corner of the hall sheltered the flower girls who offered all kinds of blooms, from a bunch of field flowers to a bouquet of American Beauty roses. Another table showed such an array of cakes and candies as made one's mouth water, while the articles of fancy work were so numerous that the children were afraid the half would not be sold. The dolls had a place of honor to themselves, the three donated by Mrs. Ramsey occupying the most conspicuous place.
Dorothy and Edna made their way to this table first of all, and Dorothy was prompt in exchanging a quarter for her little doll in blue. "I was so afraid144it would be sold first thing," she explained to Edna, "and I still have seventy-five cents to spend on other things."
Edna was not so fortunate, for the doll of her choice was already sold, while the impossible one among Mrs. Ramsey's trio, was far beyond her pocket-book. "It is marked three dollars," she whispered to Dorothy. So she put this out of her mind, and decided that she would first buy something to take home to her mother and sister and then, if there were enough left, she might get one of the little dolls.
The room was beginning to be thronged with people, although the children had arrived early, and it was noticed that sales were being made rapidly. Everyone was eager to buy, though the cheaper articles went first, and Edna had some difficulty in getting something very pretty for the amount she could afford. However, Miss Newman came to her rescue.
"Here is a little girl," she said to one of the ladies behind the table, "who has worked very hard for this bazar, and who wants something very nice to take home for her mother. What is the very prettiest thing you have for twenty-five cents?"
"Why, let me see," said the lady smiling down at Edna, and then casting her eye over the table, "there ought to be some of those nice little handkerchief cases. There were several on the table, but they went off like hot cakes. I will see if there are145any more that haven't been put out." She rummaged around in the boxes at the back, and finally produced what she was looking for which pleased Edna greatly, and it was handed over to her. Next a pretty picture-frame was chosen for Celia and the most important purchases were made.
Dorothy and Jennie were wandering around together, the doll in blue sitting up very stiffly where Dorothy carried it on her hand. Jennie's father had given her two dollars to spend, and she had already parted with most of it. The caramels and panuchee were not to be resisted, and there were so many pretty things that one's money did not last long. "I wish papa would come," she remarked to her two friends. "I know he would buy something for me when he knows I can't buy it for myself."
"There he is now," cried Edna as a tall man was seen making his way toward them.
Jennie wedged her way between ranks of small boys who were consuming peanuts and pop-corn, and reached her father's side. "Oh, Papa," she cried, "I am so glad you have come. There is such a lovely crocheted sacque over here that I want you to buy for me to give to Miss Eloise."
"For you to give to Miss Eloise? Why shouldn't I be giving things to Miss Somebody-or-other?"
"Because I think it would be nicer for me to. You can buy things for mother and me, if you want to."
"And for no one else?"
146"Oh, yes, you can get anything you choose for Edna and Dorothy."
"Thanks for your kind permission. I think I know exactly what those young ladies would like. Let's see about the worsted thingamabob first."
Jennie led the way to the fancy table where the pretty light sacque changed hands, and with it under her arm, Jennie followed her father across the room to where the array of dolls, considerably lessened in numbers, was displayed. Mr. Ramsey halted before the three which his wife had donated, and regarded them closely. "Are those what your mother contributed?" he asked Jennie.
"Yes," she told him, "and they are the very prettiest ones."
"So they are," put in the lady in attendance, "but because they are the highest priced they have not been sold yet. Don't you want one for your little girl, Mr. Ramsey?"
"I want three for three little girls," he said taking out a roll of bills. "Where are Edna and Dorothy, Jennie?"
"Oh, they are over there at the candy table."
"See if you can get them to come over here. I can't be seen carrying three dolls around with me."
Jennie wormed her way through the crowd with surprising agility and reached her two friends who had just bought five cents worth of panuchee apiece. "Come over here," she said breathlessly; "papa147wants to speak to you." Tall as he was Mr. Ramsey was easily discovered and the three little girls were not long in reaching him.
"Here you are," he said. "Now, which one of you did I overhear expressing her admiration for this giddy creature in a ball dress?"
"Oh, did you hear?" asked Edna. "I think it must have been I who liked it so much."
Mr. Ramsey lifted down the doll and placed it in Edna's arms. "O!" she breathed rapturously, "do you really mean she is mine? I don't know how to thank you."
"Then don't try," replied Mr. Ramsey laughing. "Now then, it seems to me I heard someone say that this one with the dark locks would be her choice. The voice sounded very much like Dorothy's if I am not mistaken. How is that, Dorothy?"
"Oh, I did say I liked that one best."
"Then yours she is." And Dorothy was made happy by receiving the dark-haired doll into her arms.
"Now, Miss Jane," continued Mr. Ramsey, "there is but one left for you. Do you think you would like this smiling creature with the wonderful hat?"
"Oh, Papa, of course I would. If I had had first choice I would have taken that one."
"Then here you are, my lady Jane." And the third doll was embraced by her new mamma.
148"I think you are the loveliest father ever was," said Jennie. "Oh, girls, isn't it fine that we have all three? Do let's find mamma and tell her." Holding their dolls very carefully they made their way through the crowd to Mrs. Ramsey, who was serving as cashier at a little table near the door. "Oh, Mother," cried Jennie, "do see our dolls. Papa bought us each one."
"Why it seems to me I recognize them as old friends," said Mrs. Ramsey.
"Aren't you glad papa bought them?"
"I am very glad if you are, and I should judge by your looks that you are not ill-pleased."
"I would rather have mine than anything else in the whole room," said Edna fervently. "I was so in love with this one in her party dress."
"And I did admire this dear child in her automobile coat and bonnet," chimed in Dorothy.
"And I am perfectly satisfied with mine," said Jennie. "Mother, what shall we name them?"
"Suppose you wait till we get back home. Just now I am pretty busy, as you may see."
"And have you taken in much money?"
"Nearly two hundred dollars according to the last count."
"Oh, that is a great deal, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is really more than we hoped to get, and I am sure we shall have the full two hundred, if not149more, though there is not much left except eatables."
The little girls walked away proudly carrying their dolls. "Have you spent all your money?" Dorothy asked Jennie.
"No, not quite. Have you?"
"Nearly all. I think I have only about ten cents. Have you any, Edna?"
"A little. What are you going to buy with yours, Jennie?"
"I haven't decided, but I suppose something to eat or some flowers, for nearly all the cheap things are gone except those. I don't want my fortune told, do you?"
"No, I would rather spend it at the fishpond."
"Then let's go there. I think that will be more fun than anything else."
The fishpond was out of doors and had been so greatly patronized that it was a very difficult matter to keep it stocked with fish of proper quality, and latterly there had been frequent raids upon the candy stand for such things as might serve for fish. The three little girls standing in a row waiting their turn noticed a small chap holding fast to his smaller sister's hand. Both were deeply interested at each draw from the pond, and watched eagerly as the small packages were opened. They were a quaint little pair, for the boy's trousers were very long for his short legs and his shirt sleeves150were correspondingly short for his arms. The little curly-headed girl wore a very stiffly starched, very short frock which stood out all around and showed her chubby knees and bare legs. She kept her eyes fixed with admiring awe upon the three dolls, and lost all interest in the fish-pond as soon as the three friends arrived upon the scene.
"What did you get from the pond?" asked Jennie who was standing nearest the boy.
"Didn't get nawthin'." he answered.
"Oh, didn't you? Why not?"
"Didn't have no money."
"Oh, that was too bad. Did you spend it all before you knew there was a fishpond?"
"Naw. Didn't have none to spend."
"Oh." Jennie looked at the pair and then she looked at her two friends. Edna interpreted the look and nodded understandingly, but Dorothy looked a little puzzled. The coast was not clear and Dorothy stepped up, but Edna gave her skirt a little twitch. "Wait," she whispered.
"What for?"
Then Edna said something in a low tone and Dorothy turned to look at the little boy and his sister who had crowded near to watch.
"Wouldn't you like to try?" asked Jennie.
"'Course I would," said the boy, but with no hope of such good luck.
151"All right," said Jennie, laying down his nickel and handing him the pole.
The boy shot her one look of delight and surprise and let his line drop into the pond. When he drew it out with a package dangling from the hook, he turned to his little sister. "Come on, sis," he said, "you and me'll open it together."
Curly-Head followed him with pleased expectancy, and when they opened the package to disclose several pieces of panuchee, it was share and share alike.
"That's a nice generous boy," whispered Jennie to her companions. "I know what I am going to do; I am going to let him spend the rest of my money."
"And I'll let the little girl spend mine," declared Edna.
"Where do I come in?" asked Dorothy. "To be sure I have only ten cents and it wouldn't go a great way. I wonder if there are any more children who haven't had any money to spend."
"I don't see how we can find out," said Jennie, "for they might pretend if we asked. This little fellow told without our asking, you see."
"Oh, well, I know what I can do. I will buy him something to take home to his mother, and that will be just as good."
During this time the two children had been devouring the candy, and soon had finished the last152piece. "Do you want to fish in the pond?" Edna asked the little girl.
"Yeth," she answered bashfully.
"Then come on." She was given the pole and with a rapturous giggle drew forth another package which proved to contain two little cakes, which soon followed the way of the candy.
"Now they must have some ice-cream," decided Jennie.
"You don't suppose it will make them sick, do you?" said Dorothy.
"Of course not. It hasn't made us sick, and why should it make them? We have eaten twice as much stuff as they have."
This silenced Dorothy, and the children were made happy by being served with two saucers of ice-cream which they ate solemnly, aware that they were being watched by their benefactors.
When the last drop had vanished Jennie and Edna each took her last nickel and gave it to the children. "Now," said they, "this is for you to spend anyway you like."
"And this," said Dorothy, bringing forth her ten cents, "is for you to spend for your mother. Now don't forget," she charged the boy. "You understand it is to buy something for your mother."
He nodded, and without a word started at once for the fish-pond, the money clutched safely in one hand and the other holding the fat little fingers of153his sister. Evidently there was no joy in life equal to fishing, in the eyes of this son of a fisherman.
"Do you suppose he is going to spend it all at the fish-pond?" said Dorothy as she watched him trudge off.
"Oh, never mind if he does. No doubt his mother will be just as well pleased with what he brings from there as anything."
By this time the tables in the hall were swept of nearly everything salable, and the tea had given out in the tea-tent. Only a few persons remained, and these were making ready to go. As they passed the fish-pond, they saw that the lines were taken in and the young lady in charge was preparing to shut up shop. Ahead of them Young Fisherman and Curly-Head were toddling home, each clutching a parcel.
"I wonder what they have," said Jennie. "Let's run after them and see."
They were not long in catching up with the toddlers. "What did you get?" asked Jennie.
The boy slowly unwound a long piece of string from the package and brought to view a piece of soap. "That's for mother," he said.
"Thith ith for muvver, too," said Curly-Head holding out a small paper bag. Jennie opened it to find therein a roll of tape.
154The little girls tried to keep from laughing, but hardly succeeded. "You'd better toddle home," said Jennie. "The bazar is over."
The children did not stir, but watched their friends depart. When they were nearly out of hearing, came back to them these words: "The ice-cream was awful good." So did Young Fisherman make known his appreciation. Curly-Head echoed his words, but her little voice did not carry far enough for the girls to hear.
"Where have you been?" asked Mrs. Ramsey when they at last returned to the hall.
"We've been spending the last of our money," Jennie told her. "Did you make two hundred dollars, Mother?"
"We think so, though it has not all been turned in yet. Your money seems to have lasted pretty well if you have just spent the last of it."
Jennie laughed, and then told about the funny pair with their piece of soap and roll of tape. But somehow it didn't appear so funny to her mother as she expected it would, for instead of laughing she gathered the three children to her and kissed them all three, murmuring, "You dears."
When all the returns were made it was found that a little over the two hundred dollars had been taken in, and this was expected to be quite enough to buy furniture for the new house when it should be built. Cap'n Si was quite overcome, but had few155words. It was not like his kind to express many thanks. The house was to be begun at once that it might be ready before cold weather. Enough had been subscribed for a beginning to be made, and several gentlemen had pledged themselves to see it through in case there should be a lack.
The dolls returned in state to the house from which they had been taken, and the matter of names was much discussed. Finally Edna decided that she would name hers after Mrs. Ramsey and so her doll was called Virginia. Dorothy wavered between Edna and Jennie, but finally concluded the latter would be more in keeping with the occasion. Jennie was not long in making up her mind that Eloise should be the name of her doll.
"I have always thought it such a lovely name," she said, "and Miss Eloise will be so pleased, I know," as indeed she was.
Mrs. Morrison and Louis had gone home just before the bazar came off, as they were to stop on the way to see Mrs. Morrison's sister, but Louis told Edna that his Uncle Justus had persuaded his mother to send him to boarding-school the next year, and strange to say he liked the idea, so it will be seen that Uncle Justus did have the talk he had in mind that evening of the sailing party. Edna was not allowed to go away without having the sail to Gosling Island, and this time there was no headache to interfere, but all went smoothly, and the sail home by moonlight was something to be156remembered. It was decided that the Ramseys should go as far as Boston with the little girls when they were ready to go home, and that a stop of a couple days should be made. Miss Newman and Miss Eloise closed the little bungalow, but hoped to return to it another year.
"I never dreamed of such a wonderful summer," Miss Eloise told her three little friends as they were taking that moonlight sail. "To think that I, poor invalid I, should actually have earned some money, and am so much better that I may be able to earn more. Oh, my dears, you don't know what it means to me to help sister who has sacrificed her life to me. I am going to tell you that she gave up her lover and all her dream of a happy home, such as other women have, because I must be her first care. I want you to know how dear and good she is, for I don't think people always appreciate her. I have found that out since I have been more in the world and have seen more people."
This little group was to itself, Miss Eloise lying on a pile of rugs and the children around her. The others were in another part of the vessel.