This first afternoon was followed by many others quite as happy. Shelly Beach came to be a familiar spot, the grove was more than once explored, the drives up and down the coast became old acquaintances, while Cap'n Si grew to be as well known as any member of Jennie's family. The little girls were never allowed to go out in a sail boat and never were permitted to go too far in the rowboat though Mr. Ramsey promised that some day they should all go on a sailing party, even Miss Eloise. The salt baths and the fine air were doing Miss Eloise so much good that one might expect almost anything would be possible for her before the summer was over. She was a great favorite with everybody, and with none more than the three little girls to whom she gave confidences she withheld from older persons, and they came to know a great deal about the circumstances of herself and sister.
"I wish we could do something about it," said Jennie, one day where the three children were sitting in a row on the warm sands.
"About what?" asked Dorothy.
"About Miss Eloise. You know she told us about the mortgage on their little house. I asked papa to55tell me what a mortgage was. At first I thought it was something that had been built on and that had to be lifted off in some way, but it isn't that at all; it is money that has to be paid before they can own the house all themselves. I asked papa if he couldn't give them the money, but he said it would never do to offer it, for both Miss Eloise and Miss Newman were very proud and would much rather earn the money themselves even if it took a long time."
"But Miss Eloise can't earn money; she is an invalid," put in Edna.
"I know, but I wish she could: Papa said I needn't worry about it, as the mortgage was not so very big, and the money they had to pay on it every year did not amount to such a great deal, but I know from what Miss Eloise said that she would like it to be paid; she said she would feel ever so much more comfortable."
"Oh, dear, how in the world can anyone ever understand about such things as interest and mortgages and all that?" said Dorothy. "I don't believe I ever shall get through fractions, let alone interest."
"You see," Jennie went on, "Miss Eloise isn't like a Home for the Friendless or anything like that, or we could have a bazar for her."
"Of course she isn't a Friendless," said Edna with indignation.
56"That's just what I said she wasn't, and that is what makes it hard to do things. I am so fond of her that I would like to have her get anything she wants."
"She tells the most lovely stories," said Edna thoughtfully, "but the trouble is, she hasn't the strength to write them down."
"Yes, but maybe she can some day," Dorothy spoke up. "Don't you remember when we first saw her she couldn't even sit up in her chair, and had to be wheeled everywhere."
"Yes, I know that, but the doctor says she must be very careful and must never do anything to tire her back, and writing does tire it; she said so." Edna gave this last word.
They were all very thoughtful for a little while after this. Edna employed herself in making little piles of sand, scooping it up with a purple mussel shell. Dorothy merely let the sand slide through her fingers, while Jennie amused herself by covering up one hand with sand and suddenly pulling it out of its covering.
It was while they were thus occupied that Emma came down the beach to find them.
"Your mother says you are to come up to the house and bring the others with you," she said to Jennie.
"What does she want us for, Emma?"
"To see some company that has come."
57"Oh, very well, I suppose we shall have to go. Come on girls."
They all arose and followed Emma to the house to find that a neighbor had driven over with her two children, a little girl somewhat younger than either of the three, and a little boy somewhat older. Jennie had never met them before, but at her mother's suggestion she bore them off to a corner of the porch, leaving the ladies to talk together. In spite of there being a company of five, the children did not seem to get along very comfortably, for the visitors were shy and had very little to say.
Miss Eloise from her chair watched them all for awhile. She could see that very little headway was made, though Jennie as hostess was doing her best to entertain. Billy Potter with round eyes stared straight ahead, taking interest only in the passing of an occasional vessel; Mallie, with drooping head responded yes or no to the questions put to her, and both visitors refused to leave their chairs to go anywhere or see anything. Presently Miss Eloise called Jennie softly and she immediately responded.
"You're having rather a hard time of it, aren't you dear?" said Miss Eloise.
"Oh, Miss Eloise, you don't know what sticks they are. I can't make the little girl say anything but yes and no, and the boy won't even say that much; we have all tried him."
58Miss Eloise laughed. "Do you think you could wheel me up closer?"
"Why, of course I shall be delighted to."
Edna seeing what was taking place, ran to help. "Oh, Miss Eloise," she cried, "are you coming to help us out?"
"I am going to try," she said smiling. And presently the strangers looked up to see a sweet face smiling at them from a nest of silken pillows.
It would be a rare child whom Miss Eloise could not entertain, and in a few moments Billy's round eyes removed their gaze from the passing ships while Mallie was a delighted listener to one of Miss Eloise's fascinating stories.
Time passed so rapidly under this treatment that when, in the course of half an hour, Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Ramsey came over to where the group sat, they found no one ready to move until the tale was done, so both ladies sat down to hear its close.
"Gee! but that was a fine story," said the hitherto silent Billy, when the end of the story came. "I wish you could tell 'em like that, Mother."
"Oh, my dear, I wish I could," returned Mrs. Potter. "What a gift you have, Miss Newman. I wish more children could have the privilege of hearing you. I quite envy Mrs. Ramsey such an institution as a self-working reciter of tales."
The ladies all laughed and Mrs. Ramsey said that her neighbors need not think they could send over59and borrow this new institution, though she was sure the institution was much more entertaining than any phonograph. They were all quite merry over it, and all the time Edna was thinking very hard, and was the most sober one of the company.
After the visitors had departed, the two younger of them quite thawed out, and promising with great readiness to come again, the three little girls returned to their place on the sands.
They were discussing the two Potter children when suddenly Edna sang out: "I see a boat coming."
"There are always boats coming and going," remarked Dorothy; "I don't think that is anything very unusual."
"But they don't often come so close to the shore, as if they were making right for this little landing," protested Edna.
Jennie sprang to her feet. "I do believe it is someone coming here," she declared, "but I don't know who it is. I think it is one of the boats from the hotel. There are two pretty big boys in it and a smaller boy. Yes, they are going to land. Shall we stay here or go to the house? I am sure I don't know them."
The other two were standing up by now. They watched the boat till it came up to the little landing, saw one of the boys, the smaller one, scramble ashore and then the others row off. The smaller boy came on directly to where the little girls were60standing. As soon as he caught sight of them he took off his hat and walked faster.
Then Edna recognized him: "Why it's Louis, my cousin Louis," she cried, and ran to meet him. "Why, Louis Morrison," she greeted him as he came up, "where in the world did you come from?"
"From the hotel," responded Louis. "Mother and I are staying there and mother had a letter from your mother telling her that you were here and where you were staying, so when Al and Phil Haines said they were coming out in a boat I got them to leave me here. I say, it's fine, isn't it?"
Just what was fine, Edna did not stop to inquire, but turned to her friends to say, "This is my cousin Louis Morrison; Louis, this is Jennie Ramsey and this is Dorothy Evans, my dearest friends."
"What were you doing when I came up?" asked Louis.
"We weren't doing anything in particular. It is Jennie's afternoon to choose—we take turns in choosing how we will spend our afternoons, you see—and she hadn't made up her mind exactly." Edna looked inquiringly at Jennie as if to ask what the program was to be.
Jennie, like the little lady she was, turned to Louis. "What would you like to do?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know." Louis looked a little embarrassed at being thus appealed to. "What do you generally do?"
61"Sometimes we get Cap'n Si to take us out rowing, sometimes we go for a drive, and if no one else is going to use the automobile, mother will let Mack take us out in that, but I am afraid she is going to use it this afternoon. We could take the pony, though, or we could go out in the boat."
"Have you a boat of your own? I can row," Louis returned.
"No, I haven't a boat of my own, but papa says I shall have one when I am old enough. He never lets anyone take me out but Cap'n Si."
"Ho," exclaimed Louis, "I could take you as well as not."
Here Jennie became quite dignified and drew herself up to her small height. "I believe it is my afternoon to choose," she said turning to the two girls; "I think we'd better go to drive. I will tell Peter to bring up the pony and cart in half an hour." She walked away toward the stables, Dorothy joined her and Edna was left with her cousin feeling half indignant with Louis and half miffed with the girls. Why couldn't they have asked her and Louis to go to the stables? They might have known Louis, being a boy, would be interested in the horses.
She was roused from her thoughts by Louis who said, "I say, Edna, you don't want to go to drive, do you? It's stupid to just go driving up and down the roads; it's lots more exciting to go out in a boat. I like a sail-boat, don't you?"
62"I've never been in one," said Edna truthfully. "Mr. Ramsey doesn't think they are very safe, but he says we shall all go on a sailing party some day soon."
"I hope I can go, too," returned Louis. Then, realizing that it would be best for himself if he tried to be more gracious to Edna's friends, he said, "I reckon after all, it will be nice to take a drive. Perhaps the driver will let me drive a little."
"The driver is Jennie," Edna told him. She began to be a little troubled about this new element which had suddenly come in to disturb the harmony of the days. She knew that Jennie was rather tenacious of her rights in the matter of her pony, though she was generosity itself in other things. She wished that they were going out with Cap'n Si instead of in the pony-cart. She wasn't sure whether the girls wanted herself and cousin to follow them, and yet she did not like to stand as if waiting. "Let's go up to the house," she said suddenly.
This proved an excellent move, for they met Mrs. Ramsey just as they were going up the steps, and when Edna explained who her companion was, Mrs. Ramsey said, "Why, that is very nice. I must go and call on Mrs. Morrison. I was going to the hotel anyhow. Where are the others, Edna?"
"They went to the stable to order Peter to get out the pony and cart so we could all go to drive."
63"Wouldn't you rather go in the motor-car? There is plenty of room, for Miss Newman thinks it better Miss Eloise should not give up her afternoon rest, and will not leave her by herself. I can have Mack leave me at the hotel, and while I am making my calls he can take you children around by the Cape, and you can pick me up on the way back. How do you like that plan?"
"I think it would be lovely," said Edna looking at Louis for confirmation.
"Suits me down to the ground," said Louis.
"Then I'll telephone down to the stables and tell Peter never mind about the pony, and I'll ask him to send Jennie and Dorothy up to me."
Edna was much relieved at this outcome of the difficulty, for she knew there could be no attempt made to drive the motor-car whatever Louis might want to do in the matter of driving the pony. He was an only child and rather a spoiled one, having had his way at home, and being seldom thwarted by his over-indulgent parents. Edna was fond of him in a way, but she feared he would prove a marplot if he spent much time at the Ramsey's, and she began to wonder how long he and his mother were to be at the hotel. She did not like to ask, and just then the automobile appeared with the other two in it.
"We're not going in the pony cart after all," explained Jennie. "Did you know, Edna?"
64"Yes," she replied, "your mother said so." She felt that the situation was relieved of its awkwardness because Mrs. Ramsey would be with them, and while she wasn't exactly offended with Jennie and Dorothy, she felt that she ought to be loyal to Louis, and now there would be no need of straining a point either one way or the other. Therefore when she and Louis settled down on the seat by Mrs. Ramsey all promised most favorably, and since Louis was bound to enjoy himself there was no friction.
Leaving Mrs. Ramsey at the big hotel some distance beyond, they enjoyed a spin of half an hour and then returned. Mrs. Morrison came out to greet Edna and to tell Louis he had best remain instead of continuing the drive to the Ramseys.
"Oh, bother," exclaimed Louis, "I don't see why I can't go back. I don't have to hang around here all the time."
"No, but Louis, you will have a long way to return, and besides you have been away all the afternoon."
"Oh, but that doesn't make any difference," Louis continued to parley. "I haven't seen Edna for ages."
"But you can see her again to-morrow. Come in, dear, and I will tell you about a nice plan Mrs. Ramsey has been arranging."
65This brought Louis to a sense of propriety, for if he showed himself unpleasant he might not be included in all the nice plans, so out he clambered.
"Thank Mrs. Ramsey for inviting you to go in her automobile," whispered his mother, and Louis gave his thanks heartily, calling out as the automobile started off, "Good-bye, Edna, I'll see you to-morrow."
Jennie and Dorothy glanced at one another meaningly as he said this, and Mrs. Ramsey perceiving the look said, "I have thought of a nice plan, children."
"Tell us, tell us," they clamored.
"I am going to let you give a porch party to-morrow."
"What is that, Mother?" asked Jennie.
"Why, it is just this: I have been thinking how very hard it must be for those mothers who are boarding at the hotel with restless children and who must find it difficult to entertain them. Many of these mothers do not get a moment's rest, and would be so glad of a little time when they knew their children were safe somewhere, and were having a good time as well, so I thought I would gather up some of these children to-morrow for a porch party and let Miss Eloise tell them some of her stories. You know there is nothing she loves so well as to get a parcel of children around her, and the way she keeps them as still as mice is a perfect marvel to me. I want to do something of66the kind for her before she goes, and I am sure she would like this better than any grown-up affair. What do you think of it?"
"It would be fine," cried the little girls in chorus.
"But what do you mean, Mother, by saying before Miss Eloise goes. She surely isn't going soon?"
"Why, I am afraid she and her sister have made up their minds that they must."
"Just as she is getting along so nicely. What a shame!" cried Jennie. "Can't you possibly persuade her to stay?"
"I have tried my best, my dear, but you know they are very proud, and have said that while they are very grateful for the invitation to stay longer that they could not impose upon me to the extent of more than the original time for which I invited them; that was for a month, and the month was up last week."
"Oh, Mother, why didn't you say all summer while you were about it?"
"Why didn't I? I think it was because I was afraid if I made it so wholesale they would decline to come at all, and I thought once they did come it would be easy to persuade them to extend their visit, if it proved to be the best place for Miss Eloise."
"Oh, dear," sighed Jennie, "I just hate to think of her going back to that hot city. Isn't there some67way we could manage to make them stay somewhere, even if it were not at our house? Why couldn't they take a little cottage or bungalow or something and stay till school begins?"
"Even little cottages and bungalows cost something, and I am afraid they could not afford even the smallest of those."
"Oh, dear," Jennie sighed again. "I never before wanted school in summer time, but now I wish there were one that Miss Newman could teach in so they would have to stay."
"Why, my dear," exclaimed Mrs. Ramsey and then stopped suddenly.
"What were you going to say, Mother?"
"Nothing, only you have given me an idea. Mack, how much time have we?"
Mack glanced at the clock in front of him. "About half an hour, Mrs. Ramsey. It is just six."
"Then you can take me to the Point. Do you children want to go? I shall be making a business call only. Perhaps you'd better go home, for Miss Newman and Miss Eloise will think we have deserted them. I will be back to dinner. Just go as far as the gate, Mack. The children won't mind walking the rest of the way."
So the children were set down at the gate and the motor-car went off in a rush. This latest talk had driven all thoughts of Louis out of mind, and the three little girls began to discuss the porch68party with great eagerness. "I wonder if we may tell Miss Eloise," said Edna.
Jennie thought they would better not, but they could speak of their regret in her leaving.
They found the two sisters settled in their favorite corner of the wide porch. "Oh, Miss Eloise," cried Jennie, "we think it is just dreadful for you to think of going so soon. Why, I never dreamed but that you were going to stay all summer."
"But, my dear, think of how long we have been here. Nothing we could ever do would repay your dear mother for all her kindness, and we certainly would prove ourselves very ungrateful if we imposed ourselves upon her to such an extent."
"It wouldn't be imposing," protested Jennie.
"It might not be if we could return the hospitality, but that we cannot do, and so, you see—"
"I don't see at all," Jennie persisted.
"But we do," put in Miss Newman. "We feel very much gratified that you don't want us to go, and we shall never forget how happy a season we have had here."
"It will be something to treasure for the rest of my days," said Miss Eloise, her eyes fixed on the glittering sea, now gathering radiance from the evening sky. "Isn't it lovely?" she said. "Don't you want to sit down here and enjoy it with us?"
"We must go and dress for dinner," Jennie told her, "but we will hurry."
69However, they were not ready till dinner was announced and Mrs. Ramsey had returned. Her eyes were bright and there was a little excited flush on her cheeks. The talk at the table was of the porch party, the prospect of which delighted Miss Eloise, but after dinner, Mrs. Ramsey said: "Miss Newman, I want to have a talk with you." So she and Miss Newman took themselves to the further corner of the porch while the little girls gathered around Miss Eloise till the stars came out and it was too cool to sit out longer.
Immediately after breakfast the next morning Mrs. Ramsey bore off Miss Newman in the automobile, and the two were gone most of the morning. "And there is the porch party this afternoon," said Jennie. "It must be something very important or mother wouldn't stay so long."
"What do you think it could be?" asked Edna. Louis had not yet made his appearance and the little girls had resumed their old harmonious attitude toward one another.
"I'm sure I don't know, but I think it must be something about Miss Newman."
"Let's ask Miss Eloise if she knows," suggested Dorothy.
But Miss Eloise could give them no satisfaction. "Sister said they were going off on a little matter of business and that she would tell me when they came back," she informed the children.
"Well, lunch is on the table," said Edna, "so we won't have to wait very long."
She was quite right for at this moment the two ladies arrived. "What did keep you so forever,71Mother?" asked Jennie as her mother joined the others who were already at table.
"Well, my dear, it is quite a story. We have had a great morning of it, and as soon as we get something to eat we will tell you all about it. I am sure Miss Newman is half starved, for we have been from Dan to Beersheba this morning."
"Those sound like Bible places," spoke up Edna.
"So they are," said Mrs. Ramsey laughing, and though Edna was puzzled she did not stop to inquire further because just here Miss Newman said, "And what do you think we have been doing?" And then before anyone could guess, "We've been house-hunting," she said.
"House-hunting," repeated Miss Eloise. "Sister, what do you mean?"
Then Mrs. Ramsey broke in with, "And the best of it is we have not hunted in vain."
This all sounded so very mysterious that everyone began asking questions until Mrs. Ramsey cried, "Do be quiet all of you and we'll try to tell you." So everyone subsided into expectancy and she began. "The house is for Miss Newman and Miss Eloise, and it is the Duncan's bungalow."
"Oh, Mother," Jennie broke in, "that dear cunning little place at the edge of the woods? You don't mean that."
"That is just what I do mean and it has all come about in the loveliest way, but I am not going to72tell anything more till after lunch. You have had sauce enough for your curiosity and you can wait."
"It all sounds so bewildering that I am not sure whether I am awake or not," said Miss Eloise. "Either I am dreaming or I shall have to believe in fairies. I think I would rather believe in fairies, for I am sure a very good one has been at work."
Luncheon was disposed of in such short order that Mrs. Ramsey declared that everyone would have an attack of indigestion on account of such hasty eating, but she agreed to gratify the curiosity so very apparent and led the way to the porch where they all usually settled for a little talk after meals.
"Shall I tell or will you, Miss Newman?" she asked.
"You, please, for you can begin further back of the facts than I can who did not come into them till this morning."
"Well, then," began Mrs. Ramsey, "it all began with Jennie."
"With me?" came in a surprised voice from Jennie.
"Yes, you," Mrs. Ramsey nodded. "It was when we were out in the automobile yesterday afternoon and were talking of how soon Miss Newman and Miss Eloise must end their visit, and you said you wished they could stay and wasn't there some little cottage they could take. Then you further set the73ball rolling by adding that you wished there were a school that kept open all summer so Miss Newman could be occupied there. That was the very beginning, for it set me thinking. I remembered that Mrs. Duncan had said to me the last time I saw her, that she was afraid Rudolph wouldn't be able to enter college this fall as he had lost so much time on account of his illness last spring, but that she did not want to send him away anywhere to prepare for his examinations as he needed the sea air and the attention he would get at home. Moreover, her husband objected to his having a resident tutor for various reasons, and they thought Rudolph would overtax his strength if he went into Boston every day. All this suddenly came up to me and I said to myself, Why shouldn't Miss Newman be as capable of coaching him as a tutor? That was the first thought, and then I remembered the little bungalow. I knew the Duncans had met with some losses this year, that their two eldest sons, for whom the bungalow was built, had gone abroad, and that maybe they would let Miss Newman have it in exchange for coaching Rudolph. That is what took me over there last evening."
Miss Eloise's face was lit up as with a flame and her lovely eyes were like stars. "Oh," she breathed, "didn't I say I had to believe in a good fairy?"
"So," Mrs. Ramsey went on, "I had a most satisfactory interview with Mrs. Duncan who promised to talk over the matter with her husband when he should come home last evening, and I went away74promising to go over this morning with Miss Newman. Mr. Duncan stayed at home to see her and we talked and talked, first with Mrs. Duncan, then with Mr. Duncan and last of all with Rudolph, and before we came away it was all settled. Miss Newman is to have the bungalow and Rudolph is to have the coaching."
"Good! Good!" cried Jennie clapping her hands. "Did Miss Newman see the bungalow?"
"Yes, we went all through it."
"Isn't it a dear little place? I went all through it, too. Oh, Miss Eloise, it is so cunning. There are just four rooms: a living room with a big fireplace, two bedrooms and a cunning kitchen. The boys used to have spreads there, and would cook all sorts of messes. There is a bath-room, too. You can have either salt water, or fresh water, just as we have."
Miss Eloise put out her hand to clasp her sister's. "It sounds too good to be true," she whispered.
"But, Mamma," cried Jennie suddenly, "have you forgotten the porch party? It is almost time for the children to come."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Ramsey, "I very nearly forgot, though I told Emma what preparations to make, and I am sure it will be all right. Still, you little girls had best go change your frocks so as to be ready."
The three flew upstairs chattering like magpies, and when up they flew around excitedly so as to get75down again to ask more questions, though this they were not able to do as the very first relay of guests arrived before they were quite dressed. These happened to be the Potters. They were followed by Louis and two other boys from the hotel, and then the arrivals did not cease till twenty children were established around Miss Eloise. For an hour they were delighted listeners, for it seemed as if this teller of tales had never been in better spirits nor had she ever told a more entrancing story, and when at last it came to an end there were many long drawn "Ahs" which showed that no one was ready to have her stop.
Then the carriages and automobiles began coming up and the children were whirled away, though in several cases the mothers who had come for them remained to speak to Miss Eloise, and one or two remained in earnest conversation with Mrs. Ramsey long after the others had gone.
It had been such an exciting day for Miss Eloise that she retired very early, and the little girls sat by themselves in a corner of the living-room while Mrs. Ramsey and Miss Newman talked in a low tone before the open fire. The evening was cool and it was not only too chilly to sit on the porch, but none too warm for the fire. The little girls themselves, though animated enough at first, soon began to grow drowsy and presently Edna's head was in Jennie's lap while Jennie's head was on Dorothy's shoulder, and Dorothy herself was propped up against the wall trying in vain to keep76her eyes open. The murmur of voices went on and in a few minutes Jennie, finding that her prop was beginning to sway over toward a chair, roused up to hear her mother say:
"Are you sure she will not find it too much of a task, Miss Newman?"
"I am quite sure she will not, for she has her Children's Hour every day in the city, and she will be so rejoiced at the idea of earning something that she will be more than ever eager to do it. Then, consider, Mrs. Ramsey, how much stronger she is."
Of course this must be about Miss Eloise, but what could she be going to do to enable her to earn money? Jennie was wide awake at once. She had more than once heard Miss Eloise long to be earning something, and now she was going to do it. Rather unceremoniously Edna's head was transferred to Dorothy's lap and Jennie got up to go to the two by the fire.
"Oh, Mamma," she said, "I do so want to know what you are talking about. Is it Miss Eloise and what is she going to do?"
"Dear me," said Mrs. Ramsey, "I thought you children had gone into the other room, you were all so quiet."
"I think we were all half asleep. I know Edna is in Dreamland, and I think Dorothy is, too."
"Well, my dear," spoke up Miss Newman, "I am sure Eloise will not object to your knowing that77when we get into our little bungalow she is to have a porch party of her own every day. Several of the ladies who were here this afternoon, said they would be so pleased if she would agree to give an hour each day to the telling of tales to a certain number of children, and offered to pay very liberally for it. Many of the ladies are boarding, and would like a quiet hour when they could be sure their restless little children were not annoying anyone by their noise, and when this plan was proposed they were more than pleased."
"And what did Miss Eloise say?" asked Jennie. "Does she know?"
"Oh, yes, for she had to be consulted, of course. I have seldom seen her so pleased."
"Then I am very glad," said Jennie. "May I tell the other girls?"
"Certainly you may."
"And since you are all tired out I think you'd better run up to bed," said her mother. "It has been a very full day and we shall all turn in early."
Thus charged Jennie went over to rouse the others who, though still sleepy, were ready to show interest in what Jennie had to tell them, and were heard talking of it all the way up the stairs.
A more careful examination of the little bungalow showed that there would be some things wanted for the entire comfort of the Newman sisters, but these Mrs. Ramsey insisted upon furnishing,78or at least lending from her own home, so the next week saw the inmates happy as two birds in a nest. Cap'n Si's grand-daughter was engaged to come over every morning to do up the dishes and help get dinner and the rest was easy enough, Miss Newman declared. Everyone missed Miss Eloise from her place on the porch, but she was so happy in her new surroundings, that all rejoiced for her. The little girls found amusement enough and managed to get along very well indeed when only the three were together, but when Louis appeared there was nearly always sure to be discord.
Therefore one morning when Louis was seen coming in the gate, Dorothy gave an impatient "Oh, pshaw! I thought we were going to have a nice pleasant time to-day, and here comes Louis."
"I wish you wouldn't talk that way about my cousin," said Edna, her loyal spirit rising within her.
"I can't help it if he is your cousin, he is always doing or saying something to stir up a fuss. I don't see why he likes to play with girls, anyhow. I should think he would much rather play with boys."
"There aren't any but very big boys or very little ones at the hotel," explained Edna.
"Then why doesn't he go play with Billy Potter?"
"Billy Potter, that stick?" Edna spoke in great contempt. "Why he is such a lump that he couldn't play with anyone."
79"Well, at least he wouldn't fuss with them. We were going to play dolls, this morning, and Louis will never do that."
"I'm going to play dolls, whatever Louis does or says," spoke up Jennie.
"So am I then," declared Dorothy. "What are you going to do, Edna?"
"I don't know," said Edna doubtfully. She dearly loved dolls, but she did not intend to desert Louis.
"Well, if you want to play with Louis you can," continued Dorothy; "but unless he will play with dolls he cannot come with us."
Edna turned slowly and went forward to meet Louis who had crossed the lawn and was nearly up to them. "Hallo," said he.
"Hallo," returned Edna rather dejectedly. "The girls say they are going to play with the dolls out in the summer house; I don't suppose you want to play with them."
"With dolls? Not I. If that's what they are going to do you and I can go down to the beach and build a sandcastle or go fishing or something."
"Oh, not fishing," replied Edna quickly. Her tender heart could never stand that. "I'd just as lief build castles though." She followed Louis down to the beach and for a while they played quite contentedly.
After a while Louis tired of castles and proposed that they go further along. "I know where there80is a cave," he said. "We can play at being robbers, or smugglers."
"How far is it?" asked Edna.
"Oh, not very far." Louis waved his hand toward the point which curved beyond them. "It's just down that way."
They set off together along the beach, but though they climbed over great boulders and scrambled around scraggy roots of trees the place was ever beyond them.
"I think it is awfully far," said Edna at last.
"Oh, it can't be far now; the boys told me it was this side of the point."
"Oh, but I thought you knew just where it was."
"So I do. Didn't the boys tell me?" Louis spoke with such assurance that Edna followed on and was presently relieved to hear him say:
"Look there. What did I tell you?"
Sure enough just ahead of them was a hollowed place in the bank which might easily be called a cave. The bank was quite high just here and stretched down almost to the sea so there was but a small stretch of sand in front of the cave. The children clambered into the shelter to rest, but Louis was not content to sit still for long.
"I'm going out to explore," he said. "You sit here till I come back. I won't stay long."
81He was as good as his word for in a few minutes he returned. "Guess what," he began. "There's a boat out there. I'm going to borrow it and then we can pretend you are a female smuggler or you can be a robber maid and will rescue me to rob me. No, I'd rather have it the other way. I'll be the robber and will find you in this sea cave with a hoard of jewels that were left with you after a shipwreck. I'll go get the boat and row in."
"Oh, Louis, indeed you'd better not," said Edna in fear lest he be too foolhardy.
"But I'm not going out to sea really. The boat is just round the little bend the other side of us. I don't mean to steal it. I'll take it back when we get through playing."
"Please don't, Louis. I'm so afraid you will upset or something, besides I don't think you ought to take the boat even for a little while. Suppose the owner should come and want it."
"Oh, no, he won't." Louis was always very ready to believe things were going to happen just to suit him. "Isn't that just like a girl to get all worked up over a little thing like that? Why, I rowed ever so far the other day, and this is only a few yards."
"But suppose, just suppose the boat should leak. It may be an old one."
"I'll examine it first. You don't have to come, you know. All you have to do is to be the robber maid, no, I mean the ship-wrecked one. You might82be gathering some pebbles for make-believe jewels. You can hide them in that corner and I will discover them. You must be asleep when I come."
Seeing no persuasion was of any avail, Edna watched Louis go off and then set herself to work to gather pebbles. This was rather a pleasant amusement, and she soon had a nice little pile of those which were either milky white, which showed some faint color, or which shone with spots of mica or quartz. Her jewels in order, she began to think it high time to be expecting the robber, so she lay down on the sand to compose herself in pretended slumber.
She lay there for some time, and being tired could almost have dropped off into a real sleep, only that she felt anxious about her cousin. Why didn't he come? "Perhaps he is fishing, or maybe he is talking to the man that owns the boat. The man might have come up and he might be angry with Louis for meddling. I think I'll go and peep."
She crawled out of the cave surprised to find the strip of beach much narrower than she remembered it. Really there was no beach to speak of now, for just as she was venturing out a wave came curling up to her very feet. She retreated, a good deal alarmed. The cave was high enough for her to stand upright, but was not very deep. She stood for a moment watching the water at the entrance. It didn't come so far in the next time, but still it was quite far enough to cause alarm. Suppose the tide were rising and it should come up, up into the very83furthest corner of the cave. The thought filled her with terror, and gave sudden purpose to her movements. She would flee while there was yet time. She dashed out, unheeding the water through which she splashed, and which came over her ankles. Her main thought was to climb up the bank and get beyond any possibility of the tide's over-taking her. Scrambling, falling, clutching at the bayberry bushes which fastened themselves securely into the soil, she managed at last to reach the top. From here she believed she could see up and down the coast. But all at once it was made evident to her that she could not see, for a chill grey fog had crept in, and was enveloping land and sea. Strain her eyes as she would there was no house visible, neither was there sign of Louis nor the boat.
For a moment Edna stood still bewildered, then she ran a little way along the bank calling "Louis! Louis!" terrified at receiving no answer. The bank which here reached its greatest height, sloped gently down on the north side, and curved away from the sea, leaving a tiny cove in which Louis had seen the boat. There might be another cave on that side. Edna resolved to go down and investigate.
The going down was much easier than the coming up, for at some distance away the shore was nearly level with the bank, and one had but to walk to reach it, no scrambling necessary. The grass, short and stubbly, was strung with fine mist and at each step Edna grew wetter and wetter, but she did not heed this, for her whole thought was centered upon Louis, and she was imagining all sorts of things. Perhaps he had drifted away in the boat far out of sight. Perhaps the boat's owner had seen him and had borne him off to be locked up for meddling with another's property. Perhaps he was really out there now on the water, hidden by the fog, and was trying to row ashore.
She reached the beach at last. The tide was coming in higher and higher, and was sweeping around85the point where the cave was, rushing in and out with a great noise. Edna shuddered as she thought; suppose she had not been able to get away before now and had been hemmed in on both sides by the waves. Once in a while the fog lifted slightly, and she strained her eyes for a sight of the boat. Once she was sure she saw it, but a second view disclosed a lobsterman coming in from hauling his lobster-pots. He rowed steadily, but passed by too far out for the little girl to attract his attention. It had grown very damp and chilly, and the east wind cut like a knife. The child's clothing was wet through and her teeth chattered as she faced the sea. She was not quite sure where she was, for she had never walked so far along the shore, but had reached different places by way of the road. Moreover, the fog hid all landmarks, and there was not even a fisherman's hut to guide her.
At last she made up her mind that it was useless to stand there and concluded that she would best turn away from the shore and try to find the road. She went up the bank again by the easier way and then turned at right angles, stumbling through the stubbly grass and over hummocks. She thought she was going in a straight line, but she was really zig-zagging across the field and bearing toward the north instead of the south.
Suddenly she saw through the veil of mist, a small building ahead. "It must be a fisherman's hut," she told herself. "Perhaps it belongs to the man who owns the boat. I'll go there and see."86This gave her a new impetus and she hurried on, and presently was surprised to see that it was not a fisherman's house at all, but a small bungalow, set with back to a grove of trees and facing a small strip of beach. "Why," exclaimed Edna, delightedly, "if it isn't the little bungalow where Miss Eloise lives. Well, I am surprised. I hadn't an idea I was anywhere near it."
On she went with better heart. Here were friends close at hand who could advise and comfort her. She reached the door and lifted the little brass knocker. The door was opened to her by Miss Newman.
"Why, Edna Conway, what in the world brought you over here by yourself?" was Miss Newman's surprised greeting. "Why, the child is drenched to the skin. Come right in to the fire." She ushered her into the tiny living-room where a cheerful fire was blazing on the hearth. Before this Miss Eloise was sitting. "It is Edna, Ellie," said her sister, "and the child is soaking wet. My dear child, why did you come out in this fog wearing that flimsy gingham? And no rubbers, no coat? What were you thinking of?"
This was too much for Edna and her lip quivered, the tears filled her eyes and she stood forlornly without saying a word.
"You poor little dear," said Miss Eloise, who was watching her. "You shall not scold her, sister. You do not know what accident may have happened.87Come over here, darling child, and tell me all about it."
The effect of Miss Eloise's sympathy finished what Miss Newman's censure began and Edna burst into tears, sobbing out. "It—it was all—all nice and bright when we came away from the—the house, and—and I d—didn't know there was going to—to be any fog."
"Of course you didn't," said Miss Eloise soothingly. "What did I tell you, sister? Go on, dear, and tell us how it all happened."
"Louis and I went to find the cave, and it was ever so far." Edna drew a long breath but checked her tears. The fire was very comforting and Miss Eloise was a tower of refuge. "Then he went off to get a boat and was coming back to the cave. I was going to be a shipwrecked maiden with jewels and he was a bold robber, but—but he didn't come, and the tide—the tide—" Here she broke down into a second fit of weeping.
"There, there, don't try to tell any more just yet. You see," she said to her sister, "the child is all wrought up. There is no knowing what she may have been through. She ought to have some dry shoes and stockings, sister, and she'd better take off that soaking frock. That little blue flannel kimono of mine will be just the thing."
So Miss Newman went off to bring back the dry things, helped Edna off with the wet frock and on with the dry shoes and stockings, and by that time88she had become calmer. The shoes were not very much too big, and the kimono was not much too long, for Miss Eloise was a tiny creature. "Now do you think you could tell us the rest," said Miss Newman taking example from her sister and speaking very gently.
"I'll try," said Edna more at her ease. "I waited ever so long for Louis to come, and he didn't. I was inside the cave, you know, and I was pretending to be asleep, and when I knew it was too much of a long time I thought I would go out and find Louis, and then I saw the fog and the tide was coming in just as fast. I was so scared, for I knew it might come all the way up into the cave, and so I just tore out as hard as I could. It was up real high, for it splashed 'way over my feet. I had to scramble up the bank for the water was coming up all over the beach and there wasn't any other way. When I got to the top I saw that I could get down very easily on the other side. There was a little cove there, a tiny little one, and I guessed that was where Louis saw the boat, but the boat wasn't there and I called and called but nobody answered. Then I went down as far as I dared but I couldn't find Louis. Oh, Miss Eloise, I am so afraid he is drowned."
Both ladies looked very grave, for there seemed likelihood of this being the case. Edna's tears began to flow again, and she buried her head in Miss Eloise's lap.
89"Poor little girl, you have had a sorry time of it," said Miss Eloise, gently caressing the child's head. "What do you think had better be done, sister?"
Miss Newman sat thoughtfully looking into the fire for a few minutes before she answered, then she said: "I think I'd better go up to the Duncan's. They have a telephone, you know, and can let Mrs. Ramsey know where Edna is. She will be worried, I am sure. Then we can telephone to the hotel and find out if Louis is there. We need not necessarily alarm his mother, but if he is not there I will get Rudolph Duncan to go out and inquire about whose boat that was which Louis saw by the cave, and we may discover something that way. Rudolph will like to go, for he has his sou'wester and rubber boots, while as for me I am used to going out in all sorts of weather. I will not be gone any longer than I can help, and—why Edna, you have not had any dinner. Of course you haven't."
"Why, is it dinner time?" she asked.
"It is past our dinner time. We had just finished when you came in, or at least Amelia had just finished washing the dishes. We have dinner in the middle of the day, you know, on account of having Amelia come to do the dishes. Ellie, dear, I wonder if you could see that the child has something to eat while I am gone. Everything is in the refrigerator, but I am afraid there is not much beyond bread and milk."
90"There is pie," Miss Eloise reminded her, "and there are plenty of tomatoes. We can manage, I am sure, sister. You go right along."
So Miss Newman did not waste time in getting ready, but started forth in a very few minutes, and then Miss Eloise sent Edna out into the little shed to report upon what she might find in the refrigerator.
The child realized now that she was really hungry, and having shared her anxieties with some one to be depended upon, she felt that there was nothing further to be done. Holding up the blue kimono so it would not drag on the floor, she went out into the little shed, annexed to the back of the bungalow. She looked inside the refrigerator. There was a plate of cold fish. Not very appetizing, thought she. A dish of cold baked potatoes—neither did these appeal to her—, a few tomatoes, butter, milk, and a little saucer of stewed apples. She took out the milk, the butter, the tomato and the stewed apples, and set these on the table. "I've found something," she called out.
"Bring it in here by the fire," said Miss Eloise in reply.
Edna carefully carried the things into the front room.
"There is salt on the shelf over the sink," Miss Eloise told her. "The bread is in the bread-box, and the pie is on the kitchen table covered with a tin lid. It gets soggy if you put it in the refrigerator.91The knives are in the table drawer, and I think there are forks there, too."
Edna returned to the kitchen to get these things. There was quite a large section of blueberry pie, and there were some slices of bread already cut. The pie looked very good and she was pleased to think that a whole pie had been too much for the two Newmans and Amelia. "I am going to eat the tomato and some bread and butter first," she told her friend; "then I will eat some bread and milk and the stewed apples, and keep the pie till the last. I am very glad it was such a big pie that you could not eat it all."
"I am glad, too," said Miss Eloise smiling, "and I am glad you could find something else you liked."
Edna ate her meal with a good appetite, and then carried the empty dishes out into the kitchen. "Shall I wash them?" she asked.
"Oh, no, I wouldn't try," said Miss Eloise. "You might set them in the dish pan and run some water over them so they won't get dry or attract the flies."
Edna did as she was told and then returned to watch for Miss Newman. She had not long to wait before she saw her coming across the field which separated the Duncan's house from the little bungalow. "Here she comes," cried Edna trying to get to the door in such haste that she forgot to hold up the blue kimono and came near to sprawling at full length. However, she did get to the door in92time to open it before Miss Newman should turn the knob, and to be ready to ask, "Did you find out anything about Louis?"
"Well, I did and I didn't," Miss Newman told her. "Let me get off this waterproof and I will tell you." She slipped off the garment and hung it over the back of a chair, then she removed her rubbers and came over to the fire to dry the edge of her skirt. "We called up Mrs. Ramsey first of all and told her where you were, then we called up the hotel. I let Rudolph do the asking, so Mrs. Morrison would think it was someone at the Duncan's who wanted to know about Louis. He was not with his mother, and she said she had not seen him since he went out after breakfast to see Edna. 'He is probably at Mrs. Ramsey's,' she told Rudolph."
"Oh, dear, where can he be?" sighed Edna, anxiety written on her usually happy face.
"Then I told Rudolph the circumstance of the boat. 'Oh, I know whose boat that is,' he said, 'it belongs to Dick Fenton. He is a fisherman. I can get hold of him easily.' So now Rudolph has gone to hunt up Dick and he has promised to come around this way and let us know. So now, my dear, all we can do is to wait till Rudolph returns. Did you get something to eat?"
"Yes, indeed, I did, and the pie was delicious. I am so very fond of blueberry pie. Thank you so much, Miss Newman for leaving me such a nice big piece."
93Miss Newman laughed. "I am glad you take it that way, though the truth is, we didn't know we were leaving it for you."
"I am afraid I drank up all the milk," Edna went on. "I hope you will not need it for your supper."
"No, we shall not, for neither of us takes milk in tea and they will bring more for the morning."
"Did Rudolph think that anything dreadful had happened to Louis?" asked Edna after a pause.
"No, he seemed to think that no one could take the boat without Dick Fenton's knowledge, and said that anyhow there were no oars in it, as Dick always took the oars up to the house."
It was a great relief to hear this, and Edna began to feel much more hopeful. "Only," she said, "I don't see why he didn't come back."
"That is where the mystery is," acknowledged Miss Newman.
The mystery was not solved till an hour later when not only Rudolph, but Louis himself appeared. Miss Eloise was entertaining Edna with a story that the time might not hang too heavily. The bad weather had made a porch party out of the question, and this afternoon Edna was the only listener. The fairy prince had but just entered into the tale when a knock at the door scattered all hope of his ever being recognized as the little bird on a bough.
Edna flew to the door, reaching it less clumsily this time as she had resumed her own frock which94was now quite dry. "It's Louis! It's Louis!" she screamed. "Oh, Louis, why didn't you come? I was in such a trouble about you."
"Well, I'll tell you how it was," said Louis, entering the room. "It wasn't my fault at all. I went down and got into the boat, but I found there were no oars, so of course there wasn't any use for me to try to go out in it. While I was sitting there Dick came along; he's the man the boat belongs to, you know. 'Hallo, sonny,' he said, 'Waiting for a trip to sea?' I said I was just sitting there pretending I was out at sea. 'I'm going to draw my pots,' he said, 'Want to come along?' Now, you know, Edna, of course I couldn't miss such a chance as that, for I had never seen anyone draw lobster-pots, so of course I said yes, I'd like to go. I didn't think we would be gone very long, and I knew you would stay until we got back. I never thought about the tide coming in, or would have made Dick wait till I had gone to tell you not to wait."
"You should have gone to tell her anyhow," said Miss Newman severely. "It was inexcusable to leave a little girl all that time by herself."
"Well, but you see," said Louis in self-defence, "I was afraid Dick wouldn't wait for me."
"You could have asked him whether he would."
Louis did not reply but hurried on with his story. In his heart of hearts he was conscious of having neglected his cousin for the sake of his own amusement, and had really no excuse to offer. "Well, so95I got in the boat and we went off. It was further than I thought, but just the minute we got back I went right around to the cave, or at least I tried to get there. Gee! when I saw it was full of water, wasn't I scared for a minute? Then I said to myself, 'Edna's not such a fool as to stay and get drowned. Of course she's gone home,' but just the same I thought I'd better go see, so I went back to Mrs. Ramsey's, or at least I started to go, but I met Rudolph and he told me where you were and that everybody was kicking up a fuss about me, so I came back with him, and here I am."
It was all so little of a tragedy, and all Edna's alarm had been due merely to the thoughtlessness of one careless and selfish boy, so no one felt the least sympathy with Louis when he said. "I missed my dinner, too."
"Serves him right," said Rudolph, under his breath to Miss Newman.
"Then I would advise you to go straight home to your mother," said Miss Newman in her most freezing manner, "and I hope it is the last time Edna ever trusts herself to your tender mercies."
Here Miss Eloise held out her arms and gathered Edna to her with kisses and caresses, whispering to her that she was a darling child.
Louis looked a little ashamed, but was evidently so much more sorry for himself at missing his dinner than for Edna in any state of mind or body, that no one detained him when he said he would go96to his mother. Rudolph did not offer to see him on his way, but turning to Edna said, "Whenever you are ready to go I can take you to Mrs. Ramsey's as easily as not. We haven't our motor-car this year, but I can drive over in the surrey."
Edna thanked him and he went off promising to return in half an hour. Neither Miss Newman nor Miss Eloise made any comment upon Louis, but Edna was perfectly aware that they did not approve of him. She wished Louis were not so selfish, and she looked back to the time when she and her cousin were together at school, with Uncle Justus and Aunt Elizabeth. Louis was really nicer then, though more than once, even at that time, he had put Edna at disadvantage. She looked so sober that Miss Eloise asked what she was thinking about.
"Louis," was the laconic reply.
"I wouldn't think about him," said Miss Eloise with more spirit than she usually displayed.
"What that boy needs is to go to boarding school," said Miss Newman firmly. "He ought to be where there are a lot of other boys to teach him he is of no importance whatever."
"He was so unhappy at Uncle Justus's school that his mother says he shall never go away to school again," remarked Edna.
"Poor boy, then there is no hope for him," replied Miss Newman.
97Edna did not exactly understand what this meant, but she did not say so, but seeing she still looked very sober, Miss Eloise changed the subject, and began talking of Edna's friends, Dorothy and Jennie. "Why didn't you all play together, Edna?" she asked. "I thought you three little girls were inseparable."
Edna hung her head. She wanted to shield Louis, but at the same time she did not want to say anything against her two friends. Finally she compromised by saying, "Boys don't like to play with dolls."
"Oh, I see," said Miss Eloise with a smile, for Edna's words had given the key to the situation.
It was not long before Rudolph appeared with the surrey. He brought a warm coat of his sister's to wrap Edna up in, and they set off after Edna had given earnest thanks to her entertainers.
"What a time you have been done!" exclaimed Jennie when Edna appeared. "How did you happen to go to the bungalow? Come in and tell us all about it. Mother, here's Edna," she sang out.
"Come in to the fire," said Mrs. Ramsey from the door of the living-room. "These sea-turns chill one to the marrow. Was that Rudolph who brought you over? That was very nice of him. I was just about to tell Mack he'd better go for you."
Edna entered the house and stood before the fire. Dorothy who was established near at hand, looked up from the book she was reading. "Hallo, Edna," she said, and then returned to her book.
"How did you happen to go to the bungalow?" Jennie repeated her question, coming over to where Edna stood.
"It was the fog," Edna told her, and then she went on to give an account of her adventures. She had not proceeded very far before down went Dorothy's book, and she was as interested a listener as Jennie and her mother.
"Oh, Edna," she said, when the tale was ended, "how dreadful it all was, and here we were half99mad with you and not knowing anything about what was happening. Suppose, just suppose, that the tide had come up and, oh dear, oh dear, Edna I am so sorry we were hateful to you this morning."
"But you were not hateful," Edna protested, "and I don't suppose I ought to have gone off with Louis, but you see—"
"Yes, we do see," Jennie interrupted her, "and nobody was to blame but Louis. Wasn't he the one, Mother?"
"I am afraid so," responded Mrs. Ramsey, "though my dear, I think you should have remembered that both Edna and Louis were your guests and that the proper thing to do was to propose some play in which you could all join. Little boys are not expected to play with dolls, you know."
Jennie hung her head, but Edna gave Mrs. Ramsey a grateful look, for what she said was very true. But seeing that Jennie looked quite downcast Edna spoke up cheerfully. "Well, it is all over now, and I did have a very nice time at the bungalow. I had lunch out of the refrigerator, and Miss Eloise told me a lovely story. No, she didn't either, she didn't but half tell it for Louis came before it was done. Oh, Jennie, I wore Miss Eloise's shoes and stockings while mine were getting dry, and they were only a little bit too big for me. I wore her blue kimono, too."
"I'm awfully glad you had a good time," said Jennie earnestly, "but if I had known what was100going on I should have been very unhappy. We didn't have a very good time as it was, did we, Dorothy?"
"No, we didn't," Dorothy agreed. "We missed you, Edna, and we were out of sorts all the time. Please stay with us next time."
"I think Edna will do that," said Mrs. Ramsey gently, "for I think we must make a rule that no one of you is to go anywhere that you cannot all go, and then you will all be safer."
Edna felt that this was a very good rule, and was sure that Mrs. Ramsey had made it for her protection, since now she could always say to Louis, "No, I can't go unless the others do." So she looked up in Mrs. Ramsey's face and said, "I like that rule."
Mrs. Ramsey smiled down at her. "I am glad you do."
However, so far as Louis went, there was little need of rules, for he kept away several days, having found a playmate in the person of a boy of about his own age who had come to the hotel to spend a few weeks. "The boy's father had a boat, a sail boat," Louis informed the girls when he saw them, and Louis was invited to go out every day in it, so any other amusement which they could offer paled before this.
At the end of the week Mr. Ramsey came up for a longer stay than before, and who should appear in the harbor about the same time but Edna's big boy101cousin, Ben Barker. Everybody liked Ben, for he was an entirely different sort of somebody from Louis. He had come up with some of his college friends on a yacht, but was frequently ashore.
"I thought no one less than the King of Spain had arrived," declared Mr. Ramsey when he beheld the tumultuous welcome given Ben by the three little girls.
"He is much nicer than the King of Spain," Jennie told him.
"And this from my own daughter whose father has just arrived," said Mr. Ramsey laughing. "You are certainly a popular young man, Mr. Barker."
"Oh, don't call him Mr. Barker; call him Ben; we do," said Jennie.
"That is as he likes, my dear."
"Oh, everybody calls me Ben," the young man told him.
"Ben be it, then. And where are you staying, Ben?"
"On the yacht with the boys, sir. We are cruising up the coast, and thought this would be a good place to anchor for a few days. We're not all boys, for the father of one of my chums, the fellow who owns the yacht, is with us, so is one of the college professors, and Edna, you will never guess who is one of the party."
"Who?"
102"Guess."
"Celia, my sister Celia."
"Wrong. No ladies aboard."
"Then, let me see—not papa?"
Ben shook his head. "You're a little warmer."
"One of the boys; Frank or Charlie."
"No small fry."
"Then, please tell, I can't possibly guess."
"Your Uncle Justus."
"Oh, Ben, really?"
"Yes, ma'am, thy servant speaketh truly."
"But where is he? and why didn't he come up with you?"
"Because I wasn't sure how far it might be to this house, or how difficult it might be to get here."
"You don't mean that it is Professor Horner of whom you are speaking," said Mr. Ramsey.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Justus Horner."
"Well, well, well. Certainly we must have him over here. I will go speak to Mrs. Ramsey about it. How did you come over, Ben?"
"I rowed over."
"Then, if you will permit me to take an oar I will go back with you and call upon your goodly company. Whose is the yacht, did you say?"
"Clem McAllister's."
103"Son of Davis McAllister? Why, I know his father well, and his father is on board, too, I believe you said. A double reason for my going." He hurried off to speak to his wife while Ben and the three little girls continued the conversation.
"What do you think we saw in the water last night?" Ben asked them.
"Oh what?" they asked in a breath. "Was it a whale?" said Jennie.
"No."
"Not a man? Oh, Ben, was it, and had he fallen overboard?"
"No, it wasn't a man."
"Then maybe it was a shark." This from Dorothy. "I'd hate to see a shark; it would scare me to death."
"It wasn't a shark."
"Then perhaps it was only a porpoise. They do come in quite near sometimes," Jennie ventured this.
"No, it was nothing of a fishy nature."
"Then we can't guess. Tell us, Ben," Edna begged.
"All give it up?"
"Yes, yes, yes."
"It was a—" he paused and looked impressively at each one, "a—I hardly know how to describe it,104for it seemed to be amphibious, having once lived on land, and yet I doubt if it will live there ever again."
"Do you mean it will never be on land again?" Dorothy asked.
"I didn't say that. I said I doubted its ever living on land. I really don't see how it could, though of course it might possibly be there. This is a case when there is a difference between being and living."
"What was it doing when you saw it?" asked Jennie.
"It was headed for the harbor, I should say."
"Then it might have been a ship or a boat." Jennie began to think she was getting some light.
"You are a very clever child, Miss Ramsey, but your intuitions fail you upon this occasion."
"Then we give it up. We did give it up, Ben, you know, and then you started us guessing again. What was it?"
"It was about five feet long, I should judge," Ben went on thoughtfully, and as if he had no idea of their having stopped guessing. "Its body was reared some distance above the water, but it was making its way very successfully, I thought."
"It was a dog!" cried Edna triumphantly.
"Of course it was," echoed the others.105Ben heaved a long sigh. "How mistaken persons can be when they are sure they are right. I admit that if I were writing about this object you might think I was writing about a dog, but I wouldn't be because it was not a dog."
"Then it was a horse or some kind of animal." Dorothy was very sure of this.
Ben slowly shook his head. "On the wrong track, my dear Dorothy."
"But you said it had lived on land, though you doubted if it ever would do so again."
"Yes, verily, so said I."
"Then we won't guess any more, will we girls? We gave it up and it has to stay given up."
"Do you really want to know?"
"Oh, we're not particular," replied Dorothy, with a little toss of her head.
"Oh, well, then," said Ben, "I won't bother myself to tell you." He picked up the morning paper as if the last word had been said on the subject.