"We are water nymphs so free,We are merry sisters three.When the sunbeams kiss the foamFrom our coral cave we roam,And we float up to the strandWhere we dance upon the sand."When the moon with silvery rayGlistens on the tossing spray,Then upon the beach we dance,Fleet of foot we whirl and prance.Whirling, swaying, gay and free,Merry water nymphs are we."
"We are water nymphs so free,We are merry sisters three.When the sunbeams kiss the foamFrom our coral cave we roam,And we float up to the strandWhere we dance upon the sand.
"When the moon with silvery rayGlistens on the tossing spray,Then upon the beach we dance,Fleet of foot we whirl and prance.Whirling, swaying, gay and free,Merry water nymphs are we."
Their graceful forms swaying"Their graceful forms swaying."
"Their graceful forms swaying."
It was a pretty sight.
The three lovely faces, bright eyed, and rose tinted cheeks, their graceful forms swaying, swinging, whirling, their white feet nimbly keeping time to the song that Sprite sang.
The guests at the big yellow house on the ledge had already found that Mrs. Harcourt was a pleasant woman to talk with, but they also had learned that she permitted her small daughter to be as rude and unpleasant as she chose. It never required a great length of time for anyone to learn that.
At the breakfast table, the first morning after they had left the hotel and had engaged rooms at the big house on the ledge, Gwen showed her rudeness by declaring that she could not eat any of the food that was served.
Mrs. Harcourt looked around at the other guests, remarking:
"Gwen has such refined taste that quite often really good food fails to tempt her."
Thus encouraged, Gwen spoke for herself:
"But there's nothing on this table that is good. I wonder any of you can eat it."
The guests were disgusted with the silly child, and sillier mother. She had acted in about the same manner at every meal.
It happened that she had been up in her room over the piazza on the morning that her three little friends were dancing upon the beach.
They were too far distant for her to guess who they might be.
The field glasses lay on the dresser, and Gwen snatched them, ran to the window, and peeped at the dancing figures.
"Oo—oo! It's Princess Polly, and Rose and Sprite. I'm going right over to see them, and dance with them, too!"
She flung the glasses down into the nearest chair, and ran down the stairs, across the lawn, and then commenced to make her way carefully down the rough steps that had been cut in the ledge.
Even Gwen could not descend those steps at high speed.
Once on the sand she believed she could hasten, but the tide never reached the ledge upon which the house stood, so the sand at its base was dry, and anything but easy to hurry over.
At last she reached the damp part, and then how her feet flew over the firm, level surface.
She seemed tireless as she sped along, and she ran without stopping until shestood before them. They had not seen her approaching, because a high cliff had hidden her until she sprang out from behind it.
"Hello!" she cried.
"Hello!" they replied. "Going to dance with us?"
"Of course," Gwen said shortly. "That's why I came here."
She was a fine little dancer, and soon the four were tripping lightly over the sand, the three bare footed, but Gwen with shoes and stockings on, splashing as gaily through the shallow water as if she did not know that she was ruining a fine pair of new shoes.
Her pale blue stockings would hardly be improved by a drenching in salt-water.
The others had urged her to take them off, but for that very reason, she stubbornlyrefused, and laughed as the water rushed about her ankles at the first step.
She knew that no reproof awaited her. Mrs. Harcourt hailed each new prank as a sure sign of her small daughter's originality.
Tormenting the pets that other guests had brought to the shore, hiding the embroidery frames that any lady might chance to leave lying on a chair, throwing hats or wraps over the piazza railing to drop at the foot of the cliff, all these things Mrs. Harcourt thought extremely amusing.
A pair of wet shoes would, of course, be very funny. Gwen was sure of that.
"Where's that new girl?" she asked when they paused to rest.
"She's gone out fishing with her brother," Rose replied, "and they intend to be out all day."
"Oh, well, I only asked for fun," Gwen said quickly. "She's pleasant, and I like her, but she can't keep still a minute, and that makes me tired."
"Why, Gwen Harcourt, neither do you," said Rose, laughing.
"Me?" said Gwen. "Well, who wants to keep still? I didn't say I wanted to. I said it made me tired to watch her, because she,—becauseshedoesn't keep still. That's different!"
A shout made them turn to look down the beach.
A boy, using his hands as a speaking tube, stood looking toward them, and calling loudly, "Gwen! Gwen!"
"Oh, that's Max Deland," said Gwen. "I'll go and see why he's calling me."
Without saying "Good-bye," she turned, and raced down the beach, andPolly and Rose and Sprite stood watching her flying figure.
On, on she ran until at last, they saw that she had reached the boy who had shouted to her.
Then Princess Polly spoke:
"I wonder why he didn't run to meet her," she said, "instead of standing stock still and waiting 'till she'd run every step of the way?"
"I don't wonder," Sprite said, "because I've seen him do that so many times, and he tells her to 'do this,' and 'do that,' and 'come here,' and 'go there,' and she does just as he says every time."
"That's queer," Rose said, "because she never lets us tell her even how to play a new game. The minute we start to tell her how it is played, she says: 'Oh, I know all about it,' so of course we stop, and itis Gwen who is always saying, 'Come and do this,' and 'You must do it,' till we get tired of being 'bossed,' and never doing as we wish. She didn't do that way to-day. She danced with us, and never once told us how to do it."
"Why, Polly!" cried Sprite, "she has always known that you were trained for dancing, and that you know the prettiest dances."
The three little friends still stood watching Gwen and Max.
They seemed to be discussing something upon which they could not agree, for as they watched, Max violently pointed toward some distant point on the shore, and stamped his foot, and each time Gwen would shake her curly head.
The boy seemed determined, and the girl obstinate.
"I wonder what he is telling her to do?" said Sprite, to which Polly replied:
"I don't. I wonder why she doesn't do it?"
"Yesterday he dared her to go out on an old plank, and she did it and got a ducking," said Sprite. "P'r'aps it's something like that."
The two figures still stood out clearly, the boy evidently insisting, and the girl still shaking her head as if unwilling to do as he wished.
Some bathers came running down to the water, their gay colored caps covering their hair, their sandals tied with ribbons.
Polly, Rose, and Sprite turned to see them take the first dip, and for a few moments watched them romping in the surf.
When they turned Max and Gwen had disappeared.
"I do wonder what they were planning to do?" said Polly, "and why Gwen seemed unwilling to do it, whatever it was."
"So do I," said Rose, "because Max always wants to do the wildest things," to which Sprite added; "And you can't often find anything wilder than Gwen would enjoy."
It happened that Max and Gwen had disappeared behind a rough shanty that laborers were using for a toolhouse.
"Now don't be a fraidie-cat!" Max was saying. "What makes you act so? I called you a 'brick' the other day because I said you dared to do things that any girl but you wouldn't dare to do. Now here you are, acting just the way other girls act. 'Fore I'd be 'fraid to sail in a tub!" He hoped to make her do it.
"Well, if you're not afraid to, why don't you do it, instead of asking me to do it?" snapped Gwen.
"Oh, so I can tell the other boys how brave you are," replied Max.
"They wouldn't think anything of me a doing it," he continued, quite regardless of his grammar, "because I'm a boy, and I'm s'posed to be brave, anyway, but you're a girl, and that's different.
"Come! Get in! I'll shove it!"
Gwen paused for a moment, then:
"Give me your hand!" she said.
She was afraid, but her silly vanity prompted her to do it. She knew that neither of her playmates would dare, and Max had promised to tell the other boys of the brave feat.
Max took her hand, and she sprang into the tub, crouching on the bottom, as heshoved it off into water a bit deeper than that in which they had been standing.
The tub was roughly made and anything but clean. The workmen had used it for holding cement, but had emptied it, and left it on the beach where Max had found it.
He was very fond of coaxing others to do things that he himself would never have done. Now, safe on dry land, he stood cheering Gwen for her bravery.
"Well, come and wade out here and get me back," she cried. "I've proved that I dared to do it, and that's enough!"
"Wait till I get the fellows to come and see you out there in the tub. They might not believe me if I just told them!" shouted Max, and he raced off at top speed, paying no heed to Gwen's shrieks. No one could have guessed if Max heard her andyet kept on running, or whether the sound of his own footfalls drowned her cries.
Max ran up the beach at top speed, intent upon finding his "chum," and telling him that Gwen was actually in the tub, and then, daring him to race back and see her floating about in the shallow water.
Max and Jack had wagered a quantity of marbles that no girl, not even Gwen Harcourt, would dare to float in the rough old tub.
When Max reached the place where Jack had promised to wait for him, Jack was no where to be seen.
"Scamp!" cried Max. "He's gone off so as not to pay over those marbles I won.Well, he'll not get off so easy, for I'll find him, andmakehim pay!"
With never a thought of Gwen, he started along the beach to search for Jack.
"Well, I'd not be mean enough to skin out like that," he cried as he hurried over the hard, damp sands. He thought it very mean to elude paying the little bet, and as he ran, he told himself that he would have promptly paid the marbles if he had owed them to Jack, which was true.
Jack was mischievous, but he would never have left a little girl in the plight in which Max, with all his boasting, had left Gwen.
And although Max Deland searched in every place where Jack was likely to be, he did not find him.
"I'll not hunt for him!" he cried at last, "but I'll make him pay when I catch him!"
"Max! Max Deland!"
The voice was shrill and piping.
"Hello! Where are you?" Max shouted in reply, and the trim waitress from her position on the ledge, cried back;
"It's not where I am, but where you are that's worrying your mother. You're the first boy I ever saw that had to be called to dinner. Come in!"
She turned and ran into the house, while Max rushed toward the big dining-room.
He thought of Gwen during dinner, but he felt no fear for her safety. He believed that she had soon become tired of floating in the shallow water, had sprung from the leaky tub, and for hours had been playing with her friends.
That was not the case, however. Gwen, crouching in the tub, had waited quite patiently, watching for Max who was toreturn with Jack, while the tub bobbed and danced on the shallow water, and for a time she had found it rather amusing.
The clumsy craft had floated lightly, now toward the beach, now away, and she felt no fear because as often as a receding wave took her a few feet from the beach, an incoming wave brought her back.
Then the unexpected happened.
The tide had been turning, and a big wave snatched at the tub, bearing it farther out than it had yet been, while the next inrolling wave went up onto the beach without so much as touching it.
Gwen screamed with fright, when she saw that now the tub was steadily going away from the shore.
There was no one in sight, and she sank in a little heap on the bottom of the tub, too tired to continue shouting, andfrightened at the thought of drifting out to sea.
The gulls flew down and looked at her as if wondering what she might be, and Gwen cowered, afraid of their great, flapping wings.
No one could say what might have happened, but just at the moment when her last bit of courage had fled, a fortunate thing occurred.
A tiny fishing craft was coming in, and as it neared the shore, one of the crew spied the floating tub, then a few moments later the man exclaimed:
"Why, there's a child in that leaky old tub, as true as I live!"
"Hi, there!" he shouted, and Gwen looked up, and wildly waved her hands.
"Sit still!" he commanded, "or something'll happen. Keep still, an' we'll pull ye in when ye come 'long side."
Very thankful was Gwen when later, she found herself safe on the deck, the rough tub bobbing away across the waves, while the fishermen listened to her story of the trick that Max had played.
"If that boy was mine I know what he'd get, for doing a mean trick like that!" said one man, to which another responded:
"And I'd be glad ter help ye give it ter him."
One would have thought that Mrs. Harcourt might have been anxious because of Gwen's long absence, and her non-appearance at the noon meal, but such was not the case.
Some one at the table spoke of Gwen, asking if she were ill.
"Oh, dear no!" Mrs. Harcourt said, with a light laugh; "Gwen is never ill, but she is so very popular that when she does notappear at meal time, I know that someone has urged her to lunch at her home. Gwen is dearly loved, and so is constantly being coaxed to remain at this house or that."
The other guests could not be blamed if they wondered who it might be who continually longed to have Gwen as a guest.
When the noon meal was over, the guests made their way out onto the piazza, seating themselves in little groups for an afternoon of chat and gossip.
Some of the ladies were doing fancy work with gay colored silks. Mrs. Harcourt always brought her embroidery frame to the piazza. Not that she did much needlework, but she thought it looked well to have it with her, even if she talked for hours, while the frame lay idle in her lap.
Someone said that the same piece ofwork was in the frame that was in it on the day of her arrival weeks before.
She had taken a seat at the far end of the piazza, and she now looked about her to see who might be near her.
A tall matron, standing at a short distance, turned, and seeing a large rocker behind Mrs. Harcourt, walked slowly over, and seated herself in it. She had just arrived, and so had not yet seen Gwen.
Here was a chance to talk to a listener who did not know her little daughter, and Mrs. Harcourt grasped it.
"You doubtless heard me telling the others how everyone loves my small girl," she said.
"Yes, I heard what you said," the woman replied, in a manner that implied her lack of interest, but Mrs. Harcourt did not notice that.
"Well, really, when you see Gwen, you will not wonder, for you, like everyone else, will enjoy her. She'ssooriginal."
Just at this point those who sat near the railing noticed two odd looking figures toiling up the rough-hewn stairway on the cliff.
Those who watched them turned to exchange amused glances, and then look toward Mrs. Harcourt.
Quite unaware of what was going on, Mrs. Harcourt continued:
"As I was saying, Gwen is really very unusual, and original, and at the same time, she is so very sweet tempered, that——," but the sentence was interrupted by the appearance upon the piazza of a rough looking fisherman, and a drenched, and very dirty small girl, whose sailor frock was wet with sea water,and be-daubed with cement. Her eyes were red and swollen with crying, her hair had lost its ribbon, and hung about her face. Truly she did not look attractive.
"Could any of you fine ladies put down your needles long 'nough ter hear where I found this little lass?" said the man, "fer she looks like she needed 'tendin' to."
Gwen could at once have run to her mother, but she chose to cling to the fisherman's rough hand, and be gazed upon as an abused child. Mrs. Harcourt, trying to decide which shade of silk to use, did not even look up. She did not dream that Gwen had returned.
So surprised were the guests that, for the moment, no one spoke, and the man continued:
"Me'n' my mates found her floating out ter sea in a ol' tub what the carpenters hadbeen usin' fer cement, an' we pulled her in. As the tub was a leakin', I guess 'twas 'bout time 'less ye wanted her ter be drownded."
A shrill cry from Mrs. Harcourt followed by the sound of hurrying feet, and then:
"Oh, Gwen, my dear! Come away from that rough man!" she cried, and the instant silence showed the disgust that her words had provoked.
"Wal, I s'pose that's the kind of thanks that a poor feller can expect from a lady 'ristocrat!" said the fisherman as he turned to go, "but I'll say one thing more, an' that is that the young lad named Max is 'sponsible for the mischief. It was him what coaxed the little lass inter that ol' tub, an' then run off ter play."
"Three cheers for this man!" cried ayoung fellow who had listened intently, and the guests responded with a will, and Mrs. Harcourt from the hall whence she had vanished with Gwen, wondered what it was all about.
She considered herself a cultured woman, yet she had not spoken one grateful word to the man who had rescued Gwen from her perilous position!
Of course Max denied that he had intended to play a trick on Gwen. He was a coward, and a coward rarely cares to "own up" when guilty.
Instead, he insisted that he only "dared" her to get into the tub, but that he never thought she would stay in it a moment after he was out of sight.
His mother believed him; the guests did not, but little cared Max. So long as she thought him perfect, he was quite happy,because he could do, at all times, exactly as he chose. That he usually chose to be very disagreeable was not to be wondered at.
His mother thought his pranks most amusing, and his saucy speeches, smart, so he was quite content.
The oddest part of all was that Gwen really liked Max Deland. He was always getting her into scrapes, and as soon as she had escaped from one, she was ready for another.
Max never helped her. Instead, he left her to help herself. Gwen was wilful with all of her girl playmates, but she would agree to anything that Max proposed, so when, in the afternoon of the following day, he told her that he was going to take a long tramp, Gwen was wild to know just where he was going, and coaxed to go too.
"Whereare you going?" she asked for the third time.
"Oh, somewhere great!" Max said with a provoking chuckle.
"It would serve you just right if I said I didn't care where you went, but I do care, because I want to go too," Gwen said.
"I only wanted to tease you," Max replied, "and I'll let you go with me, Gwen. Turn 'round and look at that high hill over back of the house where we're staying. I'm going to climb to the top of that hill, and go down on the other side, just to see what there is 'round behind that hill."
"Then why don't you walk around it, instead of climbing?" questioned Gwen.
"Smarty!" Max said, at he same time looking very unpleasant.
"Oh, I don't care," Gwen hastened to say. "I like to climb. Come on!"
It did not look like much of a hill, but it proved to be hard to climb, for its sides were steep, and covered with wiry grass.
The sun was hot, and long before reaching the top, Gwen wished that she had not started at all.
Twice she stopped to take short pieces of stems or dry twigs from her slippers, and often the thorny branches of the low bushes scratched her bare arms.
Her sleeves were short, and thus her arms were unprotected. Max's arms were covered by his jacket sleeves.
"What a fuss you make over a little scratch!" he said, sharply.
"I'mnotfussing overascratch!" snapped Gwen. "I'm fussing over 'bout a hundred scratches!"
"Oh,—o—o!" Max drawled, as if he doubted the number.
"Well, look!" cried Gwen, holding her little arms red with scratches.
"Too bad," Max said, and Gwen, surprised, and pleased, followed him, as he made his way just ahead of her, holding back the bushes.
"Oh, Max, you're good," she said, and Max blushed at her praise. He thought himself exceedingly good, but he was delighted that Gwen thought so.
"This hill didn't look so very high, when we stood on the beach and looked back at it," said Gwen.
"N-no," admitted Max, "but all the same I'm glad we started early, and we'll reach the top 'fore long. Then we'll see what's on the other side, and when we climb down, we can just run around on the level ground, and tell the folks where we've been, and what a climb we had!"
"Oh, yes," agreed Gwen, and once more they pushed forward, and up toward the summit, that seemed, no matter how long they climbed, to be not the least bit nearer.
For a time they climbed in silence, when, all at once, Gwen tripped over a loose root, and promptly sat down.
"I'll have to rest a few minutes," she said.
"I'll sit down because you do," Max said. He would not say that he, too, was tired.
He was not contented long to sit resting, and soon the two were once more trudging up the steep incline, Max leading the way, and Gwen, following close behind him.
"We're 'most to the top," he said, at last, to which Gwen replied:
"I don't believe it! The more we climb,the farther away it seems, and I do believe that horrid old hilltop moves away as fast as it sees us coming!"
"Now, Gwen, you know better! Just look!" Max said, and Gwen looked.
"Well,—the top isn't any farther off than it was the last time I looked up," she said, grudgingly.
She knew that it looked nearer, but she could not bear to say that.
"It's nearer, and you know it!" Max declared, stoutly. "Come on!"
"Wait till I fix my shoe," wailed Gwen.
"I'll bet that's the tenth time you've stopped to pull your shoe off since we started to climb this hill," Max cried in disgust.
Gwen was about to say that she should stop again if she wished to, but a glance at Max caused her to change her mind. Hisface was far from pleasing, so without a word, she fastened her shoe, and silently the two tramped on.
Max was wishing that he had taken the trip alone.
Gwen heartily wished that she had remained on the beach.
She was not only tired, but her feet were sore and blistered.
Max walked ahead, and Gwen found it hard work to keep up.
"Oh, Max!" she cried at last, "Do wait for me!" but Max either did not hear, or hearing, refused to wait, and Gwen, unable to take another step, sank down on the coarse grass and burst into tears.
Gwen was very angry. Max had taken her on the long tramp, and now had become impatient because she was tired, and had left her to choose between immediately following him, or lagging behind.
It was almost twilight, but Gwen was forced to rest for a few moments, at least, before taking another step.
"P'r'aps I can run, and catch up with Max, if I sit here and rest a while," she said.
Max, careless boy that he was, walked straight ahead, not even turning to look back, to learn if Gwen were following.
Gwen watched his sturdy little figure as it stood out against the sky, and envied him because he seemed not the least bit weary, while Max, sure that she was watching, took extra long steps to show what a vigorous fellow he was.
When he had reached the top of the hill, he would have been glad to rest, but he wished to prove that he was tireless, so he at once commenced to make his way across the level plain upon which he found himself, and then to descend the rugged hillside.
Sometimes a twig snapped overhead, and then he would next be surprised by stepping upon what proved to be a rolling stone, that would slip from under his foot, and go rattling on ahead of him.
The long walk down the far side of the hill was less cheerful than the upwardclimb had been, and while he would not for the world have admitted it, he missed Gwen, and her constant chatter.
He was beginning to feel tired, and he would have been glad to sit down and rest, but lest Gwen should be on her way to overtake him, and laugh at him for resting, he kept on.
Once he looked over his shoulder hoping to see that she was now following, but she was not in sight, and again he pushed forward. Not a bit cared he if Gwen were afraid.
"If she'd kept up with me, she needn't have been afraid. Nothing would scare her if I—— Oh—oo—oo!"
With a frightened yell, he tripped over what appeared to be a long bundle, which, however, proved to be the legs of a sleeping tramp.
"Ye little varmint! Walkin' all over a man! I'd serve ye right if I tied yer arms an' legs tergether, and pitched yer down inter the valley beyant there!" howled the angry man, as he turned over for another nap.
Max, believing that the man was chasing him, raced down the steep hillside, stumbling over roots, and twigs that lay in his way, sliding on rolling stones, and catching at low hanging branches to save himself, he at last, from weariness, stumbled, and fell sprawling over a stump that the darkness had hidden.
It happened that Gwen, becoming a bit timid because of the shadows of twilight, had risen stiffly from her seat on a low rock, and was hastening after Max, when she heard the boy's shout, and then the angry words of the tramp, and quickly as shehad come, she ran back to her perch upon the rock.
Now, indeed, she was afraid"Now, indeed, she was afraid."
"Now, indeed, she was afraid."
Now, indeed, she was afraid. Alone on a wooded hilltop! Would she have to stay there all night? Would some one come for her? How would they know where she was?
She tried to think that Max, on reaching the house would tell of her plight, and urge someone to come for her, but she knew that Max was a coward, and that he never liked to tell anything that might cause others to blame him.
Meanwhile the tramp slept soundly. No thought of the frightened boy troubled his dreams, and of the little girl who had drawn back into the shadow of the trees, he knew nothing.
At the big yellow house on the Cliff,there was great excitement. Mrs. Harcourt was so nearly frantic that the best efforts of her friends failed to comfort her.
Earlier in the day she had gaily laughed at Gwen's absence at the noon meal, and if she was at all disturbed because of her sailing trip in the leaky cement tub, she did not show it.
But that twilight should be hanging over the sea, and night fast approaching, and Gwen out of sight for the second time was really enough to frighten any woman, even if she were far less nervous than Mrs. Harcourt.
A searching party was formed, not one of whom had the slightest idea where to look, when, just as the men were about to start out, a small boy appeared in the driveway; a boy who seemed to wish to be unnoticed.
"Hello! I say, Max! You usually know where the little Harcourt girl is. Do you know now?" said a little man on the outside of the group.
"Le'me go!" snarled Max, "I want some supper," and he tried to squirm out of the firm grasp of the little man's hand.
"Not till you've answered," said a tall, athletic fellow.
"Come now, little chap, speak up!" Mrs. Deland, faultless dressed now appeared.
"Oh, it is really absurd to think my little son has the least idea where——"
"It may be, Madam," the young man replied, "but I'll just ask him again, and we'll see how he answers. Say, Max! Do you say you don't know where she is?"
"I don't know where she is just now," the boy answered sullenly.
"Did you know a little while ago?"
"Oh, dear! Max is so sensitive. This sort of thing will quite upset him I'm sure," said Mrs. Deland.
The tall young man made no reply, but to Max he said:
"Tell us where she is, and we'll go and get her, but if you won't tell us, we'll take you along to show us the way. Which will you do?"
More tired than he would have cared to admit, Max dared not refuse to tell, for he had no desire to repeat the fearfully long walk that he had taken.
And when he told how little Gwen had declared herself unable to follow him, the disgust of his listeners was complete.
"So as the small girl was tired out with the long trip on which you had taken her, you left her to be a little tenant of the lonely wooded hilltop for the night!"
"A brave act, truly. Your mother must be proud of such a manly boy!" said a stout man who had joined the group.
"I told her to come along, and I guess she could have if she'd wanted to," Max said stolidly.
In disgust, and without another word to the boy or his mother, the group, with one accord, turned toward the sandy road that led toward the narrow path up the steep hillside.
They were sturdy men, well used to long tramps over rugged paths, and soon they came upon Gwen, huddled close against a high ledge, in an effort to keep warm.
She had been too frightened to cry. She had heard the angry shout of the tramp when Max had stumbled over him, and now, although he had not uttered a wordsince, nor had she heard a footstep, she trembled and constantly looked about her to learn if he were approaching.
As the searchers made their way toward the crest of the hill, the dry twigs that lay upon the ground broke under their feet, and the underbrush snapped as they pushed the low branches back. As they approached the rock where Gwen was sitting, she heard their voices, and believing that instead of one tramp, an entire band of tramps was coming toward her, she screamed with fright, and slipping from the rock, cowered on the grass, trying to make herself as small as possible.
They had heard her outcry, however, and now they called her name.
"Gwen! Little Gwen! Where are you? We've come to find you!"
Crying out to them, she hurried forward,her arms outstretched, as she stumbled over the rough, coarse grass, over roots, and dry sticks that lay in her path, until, in the effort to run, she pitched and would have fallen, had not the big man of the party caught her, and swung her to a safe place upon his shoulder.
For once Gwen was truly grateful, and closely she clung about the big man's neck, so glad was she, that he and his friends had clambered up to her lonely perch on the big rock at the summit of the hill.
Once she whispered in his ear. "There was a big, horrid tramp up on that hill. I know, because I heard him shout at Max. I wonder if he hurt Max, and I wonder where Max is now. Did some other men go hunting for him, just as you hunted for me?"
"No need of hunting for Max," the bigman replied, "for he took good care of himself, and came sneaking home, safe and sound, while he left you, little girl, to look out for yourself as well as you could."
With care they made their way down the rugged hillside, and Gwen was so happy that she sang snatches of songs, and someone in the rear whistled to keep her company.
Arrived at the house, Gwen had a fine welcome.
She was not generally liked, because of her pert, saucy ways, but the fact that she had been lost, and now had returned was surely a reason for rejoicing.
"Where's Max?" queried a young man who had been one of the searchers.
"The dear boy was so tired with his tramp that he asked to go at once to bed. He was really fatigued, for usually hecoaxes to remain up," Mrs. Deland said, "and really," she continued, "the only reason that he did not take Gwen along with him was because she said that shemustrest a while."
"I suppose it was impossible for him to wait with her," said someone in the crowd.
"Max is very tender hearted," Mrs. Deland responded, "and he said he thought if he waited, she might start before she was sufficiently rested."
With much dignity, Mrs. Deland turned from the piazza, and entered the house. She knew that Max was at fault, and that everyone in the group thought so.
She would not acknowledge that her little son could be in the wrong. Max, according to her ideas, should be praised, and approved of at all times.
Gwen was the center of interest, andthat pleased her greatly. Mrs. Harcourt was delighted, fairly beamed upon those who crowded around her small daughter, to ask all about her long tramp and how it seemed to be alone on the wooded hilltop.
Of course the story lost nothing in the telling.
Gwen made it really thrilling, but after a time, even her mother felt that the tale was becoming rather lurid for a strictly truthful account, and she dragged Gwen away to the hall, and up the stairway, but she made herself absurd.
"Really, Gwen, you should be a bit careful," she said, as gently as if afraid of offending her small girl. "If your wonderful imagination made you think you saw eyes peering at you from behind those tree-trunks, you should remember that common people might not believe you.Ordinary people could not understand."
"I don't care if they don't!" Gwen said stoutly. "I shall tell what I want to, and they can believe it or not, just as they choose."
"I surely am the mother of a genius," murmured the silly woman.
A few days later, great excitement prevailed among the children of the Summer colony at Cliffmore, and their elders were sufficiently interested to talk of the news on the piazza, the beach, the little park, at breakfast, at lunch, and at dinner.
"It is really to be quite an affair," said one lady, to which her friend replied:
"I wouldn't miss it for the world, for I heard that no expense had been spared, and that the whole thing will be as beautiful as a dream."
"Who planned it, or who is managing it?" questioned another, to which yet another who now joined the group replied:
"Captain Atherton is 'backing' it, I hear, and so, of course, Rose will be the central figure in the pageant."
Yes, that was the cause of the excitement. There was to be a grand pageant, and the children would be the principal actors.
"Is Gwen Harcourt to be in the pageant?" someone asked, but before anyone could reply Mrs. Harcourt joined them.
"Is my little Gwen to be in it? Why, what a question!" she said. "They would hardly have a pageant without her."
"I suppose not," someone said, in a tone of disgust, but Mrs. Harcourt did not notice that.
"Well, no," she responded. "I hardlythink they could, because beside the part that Gwen will actually take, she will be a great help in other ways. Her ideas are so original, and she is always so willing to tell others how things should be done, that she, really, is a wonderful help. The committee arranging the pageant constantly ask her advice."
"I wonder if they asked Gwen's permission to have the pageant at all?" grumbled a small boy who stood near the ladies who had been talking.
Yes, it was to be a great event at Cliffmore, and everyone was interested.
"What are you going to be, and what are you going to wear?" were the questions oftenest asked, and groups of merry, laughing children sat chatting on the piazzas, or strolling along the beach, talking, always talking of the pageant.
It was, indeed, to be a grand and beautiful procession that would make its way along the beach.
The children were greatly excited, and each was interested in the costumes that her playmates were intending to wear, as well as that in which she would herself appear.
There had been an odd happening. Captain Atherton had chosen the list of characters to be represented, and Mrs. Sherwood had written a clear description of the costumes to be worn.
All were pleased with the parts assigned them, save Gwen Harcourt and Max Deland.
"I shall not be one of the mermaids," Gwen had boldly declared. "If I can't be the Water Queen, I'll not be a water fairy at all!"
"Very well," Captain Atherton had said quietly, "I will find someone to take your place."
Gwen was surprised. She had felt sure that Captain Atherton would beg her to remain, and that he would also give to her the part of the Water Queen.
Max had had a similar experience. He had expressed his dislike for the part given him, and had been told that the parts once given out could not be changed.
"Come on, Gwen!" he had said. "We can get up something for ourselves!"
"Whatdoyou mean?" she asked.
"Come on over to the big lodge, and I'll tell you. We'll have fun enough. You'll see!"