Everyone, everything was ready for the grand carnival and pageant.
The children were more than ready. They were eager.
Their costumes were completed, and they knew exactly how they were expected to pose, so that each should do her part to make the procession beautiful.
Even the sun seemed intent upon doing his share, and as he rose from the water, appeared to be smiling upon sea and land.
At the far end of the beach was a huge canvas tent, and all of the "trappings," or "properties" were stored beneath its shelter. From this tent the procession wouldstart, and pass along the beach, where hundreds of spectators would be watching from the tiers of seats that had been erected along the route.
Princess Polly, Rose, and Sprite stood waiting to take their places.
"What do you suppose Gwen and Max meant?" Polly asked.
"When they said they'd get up something of their own?" said Rose.
"Why, yes," Polly said. "Don't you remember how they spoke?"
"Oh, yes, I know," Rose replied, "but Gwen and Max often say they'll do things, and then they don't do at all as they say they will. They speak like that when they're provoked, and then they forget all about it."
"Do you know," Sprite said, "I think this time they'll remember what they said,and I'm just wondering what they will do."
A trumpet called the children to order, and soon all was bustle and excitement.
Then when all were ready, the long line of lovely children attired in rainbow hues, with here and there an adult figure to add dignity to the pageant, slowly made its way along the beach, receiving cheers and applause from the delighted on-lookers.
First came a group of thirty of the village children, dressed as water sprites, and blowing on soft-toned silver horns.
Their tunics were pale rose, and their cheeks were as pink as their draperies.
Gilded sandals were on their feet, and they blew their silvery notes with a will.
Following the water sprites, came a troop of small boys tripping along, and dressed as little mermen, their green scalesglittering in the warm sunlight, their caps of braided seaweed bordered with tiny scallop shells.
They carried triangles, and gaily they marked the time, laughing as they tramped along.
There were floats upon which were grouped children and grown-ups in tableaux representing historical events.
There was a tall may-pole carried by a man dressed as a jester, and boys and girls in early English peasant costumes held the ends of the long fluttering ribbons, laughing as the crowd applauded.
Group after group passed along, and one that called forth loud cheering was composed of boys and girls dressed as little farmers and their chubby wives.
The small boys wore overalls and straw hats, the girls wore pink sunbonnets, pinkgowns, and blue aprons, but both boys and girls carried rakes on their shoulders, and gay companions they seemed to be.
The greatest delight, the loudest cheering greeted the great gilded chariot, drawn by six white horses hired for the occasion by Captain Atherton.
Each steed boasted a white harness, and from the head of each floated streamers of green ribbon.
Who would ever have dreamed that the imposing Sea King who stood so proudly in his chariot firmly grasping the reins, was none other than Captain Seaford, the father of little Sprite.
A white wig and beard had changed him completely, and his costume of sea-green draperies was most becoming.
In his left hand he carried a gilded trident.
In the chariot with him as his nymphs were Princess Polly, in pink, Rose Atherton in blue, and little Sprite in yellow, three charming nymphs, surely.
Brownies, elves, gnomes, a crowd of small boys dressed to represent any number of different kinds of fishes were followed by girls among whom might be seen Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, and a host of other fairy tale heroines.
There were little hunters, and fishermen, but all agreed that the Sea King with his nymphs, his chariot and his fine horses was best of all.
Polly, Rose, and Sprite were just saying that Gwen and Max had kept out of sight in spite of their declaration that they would be in the procession, in costumes of their own choosing, when Polly happened to turn, and look back.
"Oo—oo—oo! Look!" she cried, and Rose and Sprite, and even the stately Sea King turned to learn what had startled her.
Too surprised to speak, they watched a little team with two occupants, approaching at headlong speed.
A smart cart drawn by a gray donkey came tearing down the beach. Max dressed as a farmer, with blue overalls and straw hat, was making a desperate effort to control the donkey, while Gwen in a chintz frock and pink sunbonnet sat close beside him, clinging to her seat in abject fear.
Evidently they had been late in getting started, and had endeavored to gain sufficient speed to "catch up" with the procession.
Max had been vexed that at first thebalky little beast could not be induced to hasten, and for a long time he continued to walk at a fearfully slow pace, paying no heed to shouting, or a taste of the whip.
Then, when Max put down the whip, and let the reins lie loosely across the little creature's back, Neddy suddenly decided to go, and go he did, galloping along at a rate that set the light cart swaying from side to side, and threatening, at any moment, to throw Max and Gwen out.
"Stop him! Do stop him!" cried Gwen, "He's running away!"
"Icant!" screamed Max. "First he wouldn't go, and now he won't stop!"
The procession halted, and a big boy sprang forward, endeavoring to snatch at the bridle.
The intention was good, but the donkey, maddened that anyone should try tostop him, shied, and the boy and girl were hurled out upon the sand.
Max turned a complete somersault and came up on his feet, declaring himself unhurt, but Gwen took an entirely different view of the matter.
She was not hurt, but her temper was decidedly ruffled.
"Well, I declare!" she cried, "I do think everyone is horrid, but I think Max is just alittlehorrider than the rest!"
"Why, Gwen, he did his best to stop, but the donkey just wouldn't," said Sprite.
"Well, I wouldn't have been spilled if I hadn't been riding with Max, would I?" cried Gwen. "Something always happens when I go anywhere with Max. Funny I don't ever remember it. Just as soon as something's happened, away I go somewhere else with him."
Gwen could not imagine why they all laughed.
Meanwhile the donkey having run as far as he cared to, stood far down the beach, looking out across the waves, as calmly as if he could stand there for hours. Indeed one could hardly think that he was the same little beast that, a short time before, had bolted so furiously.
Captain Atherton, who had left the crowd, and quietly followed Neddy, now quickly approached him. He made no attempt to escape, but instead, allowed himself to be led as gently as if he really preferred to go that way.
Very meek he looked, as with the Captain's firm hand on the bridle, he approached the crowd that had watched him when he ran wildly along the beach.
Max was more than willing to clamberinto the cart, and for the remainder of the route, be a part of the procession. Gwen, first flatly refused to ride, but after much coaxing she finally consented, and took her place beside Max, and so odd was the expression of her face that Max afterward said that he could not tell whether she was "mad or scared."
"Half mad and half scared," Gwen replied. "Mad to have to ride again with you, and scared for fear Neddy would run away again."
The donkey behaved very well, however. He had run all he cared to for one while, and he walked along behind the Sea King's chariot, as quietly as if he had never once dreamed of running away.
After a while, Gwen began to be so glad that she was indeed, in the pageant, that she looked about her, and actually smiledwhen some of the other children spoke to her.
At the end of the route, a fine lunch was served in a pavilion that looked out on the beach.
Captain Atherton had provided it, and it was heartily enjoyed by all who had taken part in the pageant, as well their friends who were also invited.
After the good things had been partaken of, the little guests danced to the music furnished by an orchestra that had been playing during the feasting, and eyes sparkled, and cheeks grew rosy with excitement.
It had been a delightful day, and for days afterward the children and those who had been spectators, talked of the lovely pageant, that had made its glittering way along the beach.
Captain Seaford sat just outside the door of his house, mending a net, or rather, attempting to mend it, for his mind was not upon his work, and from time to time he let the net lie on his knees, while he looked out across the dancing waves as he was hoping to see a vessel appear on the horizon.
He would sit thus for a time, and then shake his head and resume his work.
A dancing, springing footstep brought Sprite to the door, and as soon as she saw how eagerly he scanned the sea, she crept softly toward him, and laying her hand upon his shoulder, peeped around into his eyes.
"What you thinking of, Pa?" she asked quickly.
"Nothing much little girl," he said gently.
She lifted her fore-finger, nodding wisely as she spoke.
"It might not be much," she said, "but it's enough so you worry about it. Tell me, Pa, what's vexing you."
After a moment in which both were silent, she spoke again, but with her soft little arms about his neck.
"Was it about Ma, or me you were thinking?" she asked. "You looked so sober, that I know it was about someone that you cared for."
"I was thinking of you both, Sprite," he said, as he drew her closer, "and of the vessel that is almost a week overdue. If she comes in, the venture that I made on her cargo, will bring what some folks would call a small sum of money, but to us, it would be a small fortune."
"A week overdue! I'm not so selfishthat I don't give a thought for those on board that have perished if she's lost. That's simply doubled the worry."
A warm tear fell on his rough hand, and he looked up quickly.
"Tut, tut! Little Sprite! Don't cry yet. It may be that she's only delayed, and will sail into port, with all hands on board and her cargo safe. You're too young to worry now. Cheer up! Pa's not really worrying yet, only wondering, little Sprite, wondering."
That would have settled the matter for some children, but Sprite saw more clearly, thought more deeply than does the average child, and she knew that he was trying to cheer and comfort her while at heart he was deeply concerned, for the fate of the vessel for which he had been eagerly waiting.
"But she could come in now and be all right, couldn't she?" Sprite asked. "Or is it so late that you almost know that something has happened to her?"
"No, no, Sprite. It's not too late for her to arrive safe and sound, but as the days pass I catch myself watching a bit closer for her coming. Why did the tears come, Sprite? I never like to have you grieving, dear."
"The tears always come if I think anything has disappointed you, or Ma," Sprite said, softly. "That's why I tried so hard to win the prize last Spring, when all the other pupils were working for it, too. I didn't care half so much about getting it for myself, as for you."
He drew her yet closer.
"Dear little Sprite," he said.
"And now I'm going to hope that thevessel will come sailing in with a big load of luck on board. I'll tell you one thing; I saw the moon over my right shoulder last night, and all the sailors say that's lucky."
Captain Seaford laughed at this bit of superstition offered to him as a crumb of comfort.
She laughed with him, and stooping, picked up a small star fish.
"I'll toss this up three times. If it comes down on the sand, twice out of three times right side up, it will be the same as saying that the vessel is safe, and will return all right."
Three times she tossed it up, only a few inches from the sand lest it break.
"Once! Right side up!" she cried, a rippling laugh following her words.
"Twice! Wrong side up! Oh, Pa, which will it be next time?"
A moment she stood irresolute as if half fearing to test their luck the third time. She turned the star fish over and over in her hand, then, as if she thought waiting useless, she tossed it lightly up.
"Oo—oo! Look! Look Pa!" she cried, "It's right side up! Pa, I do believe the vessel will come in safely. My! Wouldn't it have been awful if the star fish had fallen the other side up?"
"My little Sprite is a great comfort," he said, "and the tossing of the star fish is harmless fun, but I'd not like to think that you'd believe all the superstitious yarns that the sailors tell."
"Oh, no," was the earnest reply. "I know that some of them could not be true, but there's one funny one that a sailor down on the pier told yesterday.
"He said you could go down stairsbackwards after dark, and look into a mirror you held in your hand, and see something, I don't know what, but I'm going to try it. I'll try it just to know what I'd see, or to find out what would happen. He said something was sure, justsureto happen."
"The something that would happen would be that you'd fall, and perhaps break your pretty neck," Captain Seaford said, "but as to what you'd see in the glass! Why, that is all nonsense. Here and there is a sailor that's as full of such silly notions as a weather vane.
"That sort of sailor listens to all the yarns he hears, believes them all, tells them all, and generally he isn't any too careful to tell them just as he heard them.
"He's apt to add just a little of his own nonsense to the yarn he heard to make it interesting."
The playmates who were at Cliffmore for the Summer were having a delightful time, but in a quiet way, John Gifford, or "Gyp," as he was still called, was very happy, and also very busy.
At the end of the school year in June, he had stood at the head of his class, and now, employed by Captain Atherton, he knew that he was respected, and that he had honestly earned that respect.
"I'm to be the hired 'man' on his place," he said, "so I'll be earning something, while I study evenings, for I mean to get somewhere worth while. I don't mind if anyone in Avondale who likes me, calls me"Gyp." It sounds friendly, but I'll not always be known as Gyp, the gypsy boy. When I get out in the world I'll be John Gifford, and I mean business. I don't know yet just what I'll do, but Captain Atherton will advise me, and with his help, I'll be able to decide."
Of course there were a few who continued to shake their heads, and say that "A gypsy is always a gypsy, and what can you expect of a boy brought up, or rather permitted to grow up, as Gyp has been?"
The larger number of the people of Avondale seemed determined to take a more cheerful view of it, and to believe in the boy, even as he now seemed to believe in himself.
Gyp proved that he needed no watching, for he commenced work early each day, and never stopped until night.
The lawn was carefully clipped, the flowers and lawn were given an abundance of water, vines were trained, and shrubs were trimmed, until after a month of Gyp's care, the place looked finer than ever before.
Captain Atherton left Cliffmore one day to visit Avondale, and get some papers that he remembered having left in his safe.
As he walked up the path he noticed what fine care the place had received during his absence. The lawn had never looked so green, the plants and shrubs had never blossomed so freely.
As he stood looking about him the click of the lawn mower caused him to turn just as Gyp came around the corner of the house.
"You've worked wonders here, Gyp," the Captain said. "I always had a fairlygood lawn, and much could be said of the vines and the flowers, but everything looks far better than it ever did before. Where did you get the knowledge to do the work so well, and so successfully?"
"I asked the gardener down in the Center, the one who takes care of the parks, to tell me how to do my best for you, and then—I did it," Gyp said, simply.
"Work like that at whatever you undertake, and you'll be pretty sure to achieve success," said Captain Atherton.
"I mean to," Gyp replied, firmly, and as he looked after the fine figure ascending the steps to the porch he murmured:
"I'll do my very best for him," while Captain John Atherton said, as he opened the door of his safe to take out the papers that he needed: "That boy is worth helping, and I'll help him."
With the genial Captain away, the housekeeper felt free to enjoy a bit of gossip, and seeing the cook in the garden of the next house, she slipped out of the rear door, and across the lawn, where, that her coming might look like a mere happening, she took a bit of paper from her pocket, and commenced scribbling upon it.
She wished the cook in the next garden to think that she was jotting down a few things that she wished to remember.
Curiosity was at once aroused, and the cook moved toward the hedge.
"E'hem!" she coughed softly.
The housekeeper turned coolly.
"Oh, good morning," she said. "I just come out here for a bit of a rest, there's so much going on just now, that I'm nearly wild with the planning."
"Do tell!" cried the cook. "I've heardthere was to be great doings of some sort over at 'The Cliffs,' but I haven't yet heard what it is. What's it all about? I'm wild to know."
Mrs. Wilton sighed, as if she were already very weary.
"We're not more than half ready for the great event," she said, "but Captain Atherton does not wish me to tell anyone the least thing about it."
"Mercy sakes! Why I came out purpose to hear!" said the cook, her round face very red, and her little eyes snapping.
"Well, you'll hear later," Mrs. Wilton said, and turning, she walked across the lawn and entered the house.
Inside the door she whispered:
"There! I guess that paid her for being so private that she wouldn't tell me a thing about the company that left their house insuch a hurry one day last week, and hustled off before daylight at that!"
The cook, still standing with her fat arms akimbo, stared wrathfully at the closed door where the housekeeper had vanished.
"Well, of all the mean things not even telling a decent woman like myself one bit of what's going on there! I'll find out, though, some way. To-morrow is my afternoon off, and I'll go from one end of this town to the other to see what I can hear."
Even little Rose Atherton was pledged to keep the secret.
"We're to have a lovely time at our house," she said to Polly and Sprite, one morning. "We're to have a perfectly lovely time, and you'll be there to enjoy it, but that is all I can tell. Uncle Johnsaid I could say that if I wished to but that I musn't tell any more just now."
"Well, we won't mind waiting to hear just what it is," Polly said, "because we know it will be nice, whatever sort of party it is. We always have a nice time at your house."
"And we'll like it all the better because there's to be a surprise of some sort," said Sprite.
"We can wonder and wonder, and then when the day comes we'll have the fun of not guessing what it is, but just knowing what it is and enjoying it."
Rose looked very wise.
"It's to be lovely, I told you that, and there's one thing more I can tell, and that is that it will be different from any party we ever went to, or any party any of us ever had."
"Won't we be glad when we haven't to wait any longer to know just what kind of a party it is?" said Sprite.
"Oh, yes," agreed Princess Polly, "and so will ever so many other people, for I've heard people talking about it, and saying that they were tired of guessing, and that they wished they knew now, instead of having to wait still longer to know."
"It won't be very long now before they know," Rose said, laughing gaily.
The secret was out, because the invitations were out.
Captain John Atherton, the genial master of the beautiful home at Cliffmore, known as "The Cliffs," and of an equally beautiful estate at Avondale, was to marry the girl whom he had always faithfully loved.
The misunderstanding that had parted them had come about because of the loss of a miniature of the girl, Iris Vandmere.
Its loss had grieved John Atherton.
He could not imagine how it could have so completely vanished. In truth, it had been stolen, but Iris thought that her lover must have valued it lightly, believing if he had properly guarded it, it could not have been taken from him. One word had led to another, and she had sent him away, grieving and wretched.
Her own heart was not less sad, but she had endeavored to hide that. Then, on that lucky day of the Summer before, Princess Polly had found the exquisite miniature lying in the middle of the sandy road.
How it came to be there, no one could say. Evidently someone, perhaps, the one who had stolen it, had dropped it, andtravelled on, unaware that the famous miniature lay waiting a claimant, on the main road of Cliffmore.
The Summer colony was excited, but of all those who were invited to be present, none were more lovingly interested than the children.
John Atherton loved the children, and they dearly loved him.
One would have thought that the grand old house of the Vandmere's would have been chosen for the wedding, but Iris was quite alone there, save for her servants.
Both parents had but recently passed away, and the lonely girl felt that the home with its sad memories was not at all the place for the happy event.
"Let it be at Cliffmore," she had said, and at Cliffmore it was to be.
"Only think of it," Princess Polly saidone morning, "Rose is to be maid of honor, and Sprite and I are to be bridesmaids. Rose is to wear pink, with pink roses, and we shall wear white with pink roses. Miss Iris will wear white, because brides always wear white. Mamma, why can't brides sometimes wear something else?"
Mrs. Sherwood laughed.
"This time the bride will wear 'something else.' Miss Vandmere's gown will be of the palest blue satin, and beautiful lace," she said.
"Oh, how lovely!" cried Princess Polly.
At last the great day arrived, just as the children felt that they could not wait much longer.
It was like a dream of Fairyland, for the great gardens at "The Cliffs" had never looked finer, the rooms were bowers of flowers and foliage, soft music floatedthrough the halls, and then, Iris in shimmering blue satin, attended by her dainty little maids, came forward to the floral arch, where handsome Captain Atherton stood waiting.
After the ceremony, the guests moved forward to kiss the lovely bride, and Iris, bent to give her first kiss to her little maid of honor.
"You aremylittle Rose, now," she whispered, and Rose, happy Rose, clasped her arms about her soft, white neck.
And quite as the weddings in the old fairy tales it was, for the banquet was like an old time feast, and dancing, in which the Captain and his bride took part, followed.
When, after a gay, brilliant evening, the happy pair said "good-bye," their friends gathered about them, wishing thema pleasant voyage on theDolphin, a safe return, and all good fortune.
Never a thought of loneliness had little Rose. During Uncle John's absence, she was to be with her dear Princess Polly, and what could be better than that?
For a few more weeks they would be at the shore, and Rose would be at the Sherwood's cottage, at play all day with Princess Polly and Sprite.
Then she would leave Cliffmore with the Sherwoods, and go with them to Avondale, there to remain until, upon his return, Uncle John, and the lovely, new Aunt Iris, should come for her. Rose was delighted to stay with Princess Polly, and she looked forward to her home with Uncle John, now to be even pleasanter than before, because of the sweet, new relative, whom she already loved.
The day after the wedding, Gwen decided to go over to "The Cliffs" to learn if Rose were there, and if she were so lucky as to find her, to remain and play with her. It would be a fine way to spend the morning.
She had quarreled with Max.
She was always either vexed with him or just making up, and no one could ever guess which had happened, because Gwen looked quite as cheerful after a disagreement, as when the friendship had been renewed.
She hurried along the beach, rushing past a group of small girls whom she often played with, because she meant surely to find Rose before she might leave "The Cliffs" to go over to Princess Polly's house.
She knew that the walk would be a long one, yet it seemed farther than she thought.
The sun was hot, and the sand seemed burning under the thin soles of her dainty shoes.
"How long it takes me to get there!" she said impatiently. "I couldn't run all the way."
She reached the low gate a few minutes later, however, and opening it, swung it wide between the two stone posts, and ran up the path, laughing when the gate swung to with a clang of its iron latch.
Mrs. Wilton, the housekeeper, opened the door, believing that some important person had arrived, for the bell had rung as if the opening of the door were imperative.
She was not pleased to see the small girl standing there.
"No, Rose is not here," she said in answer to Gwen's question. "She is to staywith Polly while her Uncle John is away. She went over there this morning."
"Why this is 'this morning'," Gwen said, pertly.
"It is ten o'clock, and Rose went over to the Sherwood house at eight," the housekeeper said, at the same time stepping back, as if she intended to close the door.
She was free to close it as soon as she chose, for Gwen had turned, and without a word or a glance, raced down the path, out of the gateway and up the beach to join Rose and Polly whom she now saw standing and talking.
"Hello!" she cried, as she drew nearer. "I've been over to 'The Cliffs' to find you, Rose, and then I came here. What you two talking about?"
"Trying to choose what to play," Rose said.
Both wished that Gwen had remained away, but they could not be rude, so she of course would join in the game, whatever it might be. It was a warm morning, and Princess Polly was just thinking that it would be fine to choose a shady spot, and sit there telling fairy tales, but Gwen's arrival made that impossible.
She never cared to listen while someone told a story. To be happy she must be the story teller, and as her stories were always wildly improbable, and always about her silly little self, they were never at all interesting.
For that matter, she was never willing to join in any game unless it was very exciting.
Several games were suggested by Rose and Polly, but to all Gwen shook her head, and refused to play either one of them.
One she thought too stupid, another she declared that she had never liked, and, yet another was "awfully dull" she said.
At last Rose lost patience.
"Whatwillyou play?" she asked sharply, her cheeks flushing.
"Oh, I don't know," Gwen replied carelessly. "I guess I won't play at all, anyway not with you two. I'll run back and find Max Deland. He's good fun, and he'll surely be able to think of something I'll like to play. He most always does, and I like him because he is wide awake. Good-bye!" and she was off like a flash down the beach.
There had been many sunny days with blue skies, and never a cloud in sight, when one day, to the surprise of everyone, the sky appeared to be a solid mass of dark, leaden clouds, and the sea that for such a long time had been glistening and sparkling, now showed only a dark sullen surface, with here and there a whitecap to break its monotony.
Rose and Polly had decided to remain indoors, and all the afternoon they had been busy sorting the shells that they had been collecting.
"I wish I had more of these," said Polly, pointing to a little heap of oddly shapedshells, white in color, with here and there markings of soft brown.
"I wish so too," Rose said. "We've less of that kind than we have of any of the others. I wonder how it happened that we didn't get more of those?"
"I don't know, but if it is pleasant to-morrow, let's hunt for some," said Polly.
Mrs. Sherwood called, and Polly putting the tray full of shells upon the table, went out across the hall to reply.
Rose hurried down stairs to the hall, out onto the piazza, along the flower bordered path to the gate, then out and off down the beach.
Polly never liked to be out when the sky was cloudy and the wind raw, but Rose cared not a bit, and she had gone out thinking to give Polly a surprise.
She meant to find some of the covetedshells, and run home with them before Polly should have missed her.
She looked back at the Sherwood cottage. How pretty it was, and quite like a country house with its well kept lawn, its flowers in the gardens, and even at the gate, a rose vine clambering over.
Swiftly she ran along the beach to a spot where usually they had found the most shells.
A few there were, but none like those that Polly wanted, and she trudged along, looking sharply at every shell that lay imbedded in the hard, wet sand, from which the tide had receded.
She had been gone nearly an hour although she did not dream that it was so long since she had left the house.
She had known that Polly would not follow her, because of the cold wind thatwas blowing so briskly. A rift in the clouds had let the sunlight through, and when she reached the gate, the garden was bathed in sunlight.
Rose paused for a moment to look at the flowers, now gay in the bright sunshine, when the sound of voices came toward her, and while one was the pleasant voice of Mrs. Sherwood, the other was surely the voice of—Great Aunt Rose!
"Captain Atherton asked that Rose might remain with us while he is away," Rose heard Mrs. Sherwood say to which the cold voice of Great Aunt Rose replied sternly:
"Well, and if he did, I see no reason why she can not spend a part of the time with me at the old Atherton house which I have always felt was her proper home."
Little Rose Atherton's heart beat faster.She still stood at the gate, and she wondered that, for a moment, neither spoke.
Then Great Aunt Rose broke the silence.
"I was away at the time of the wedding, but had I been present, I should have at that timeinsistedthat the Captain leave her with me, not only during his cruise on theDolphin, but after his return.
"The young woman whom he has married is a beauty, and so of course, will be too full of dress and society to have any interest in little Rose. If John has chosen to wed a flighty beauty, he should at least give Rose to me."
"Miss Vandmere is indeed beautiful to look at, but she is lovely in character as well, and I know that she loves Rose," Mrs. Sherwood said quietly.
She would not argue, but she felt that,in justice she must give utterance to the fine regard in which she held Iris Vandmere.
She still stood at the gate"She still stood at the gate."
"She still stood at the gate."
"There are, I suppose, some beauties who are neither vain nor foolish, but however that may be, I am determined to see Rose to-day, and to ask her if she does not wish to return with me."
At these words uttered in a shrill, angry voice, Rose turned and raced down the beach.
She dropped the shells that she had been tightly holding, and without a thought of recovering them, she ran at top speed, as if, at that very moment stately Great Aunt Rose had been actually chasing her.
She had no idea how far she had run, she had not paused for even a second, nor had she once looked back. Now as she looked up, she saw a narrow side streetthat commenced at the shore, but well up from the water, and ran toward the center of the little village.
She was almost breathless as she turned into the little street, but she dared not stop running.
The very thought of ever returning to the stately old Atherton house, with its great dark halls, its formal drawing-room, and for companion, gentle Aunt Lois, kind but so deaf that it was almost impossible to talk with her, and cold, dignified, haughty Great Aunt Rose, filled little Rose with terror.
She was now completely tired out, and as she turned the corner of the next street, she stumbled, and would have fallen but for two strong arms that caught her. She looked up.
"Why little Rose!"
"Oh, Aunt Judith! Dear Aunt Judith, take me home with you now, right off, this very minute!" cried Rose. "Don't stop to ask why! Just take me now! Come! They may be here any minute! Come!"
"Why, Rose! What does this mean?" cried Aunt Judith.
"I was on my way to call upon Mrs. Sherwood, and ask you and Polly to come up to my little cottage and spend to-morrow with me, and here you are, looking for all the world as if you were running away. I musn't run off with you like this."
"Oh, butdo, Aunt Judith. Please do! It isn't safe to wait a minute. I'll tell you everything when we're safe at your cottage. Come!"
The fear in Rose's brown eyes was so evident, that although it seemed a strange thing to do, Aunt Judith turned about, andwith Rose clinging to her arm, started in the direction of the station. A train was already made up, and about to start for Avondale.
They were soon seated, and Rose drew a sigh of relief when the train started.
"Now, I'm safe," she said, leaning against Aunt Judith.
It was not until they were inside the cottage at Avondale, at twilight, the shades drawn and the lamps lighted that Rose told what had frightened her, and why she had run away.
"I don't wonder that you were frightened," Aunt Judith said. "If John had been at home you would have been brave, but gentle Mrs. Sherwood seemed to you to be no match for Great Aunt Rose. I do not think as you do. For all her gentleness Mrs. Sherwood is a fine character, andI do not think she would permit anyone to take you from her home when you had been left in her care by your Uncle John.
"There is another thing to be thought of. Great Aunt Rose has left the Sherwood cottage long before this, and Mrs. Sherwood and Princess Polly I believe are greatly frightened by your absence. Don't you know that they must have been searching for you now for at least two hours, and not finding you, they will fear that you have come to harm.
"If only you had told me what it was that had so frightened you, I would have returned with you to Mrs. Sherwood, and have helped convince your aunt that you could not go home with her.
"Great Aunt Rose would not actually take you by force."
"Oh, she would!" cried Rose, "and I'mglad we're here, but we can let them know that I am safe, and that I am here with you, and why I came. I'd go back to them to-morrow if I knew Great Aunt Rose wouldn't go there again, and try to get me.
"Oh, the great old Atherton house is so grand, and yet so lonely, and she doesn't love me. She was always telling me while I was there that the reason she wanted me to live there was because I was an Atherton, and she said the proper place for me to live was in the old Atherton house.
"She said there had always been a 'Rose Atherton' in the family even 'way, 'way back, and that every 'Rose Atherton' had lived in that house, and when I said I pitied them, she was angry, and she said I'd no reason to. She said the others were proud of this family, and glad to live there,and that I was the odd one. She said it was strange I'd rather live with Uncle John, and I said itwasn'tstrange because he was so loving.
"Oh, I can't bear to think of the time that I lived there, and I'm glad I ran away from Polly's house before Great Aunt Rose saw me. I know she would have snatched me away from the Sherwood's.
"I was peeping in at the gate when I heard her voice.
"She was telling Mrs. Sherwood that I ought to go home and stay with her while Uncle John is away.
"I didn't wait a minute, but raced down the beach just as fast as I could. Then I thought if she came out, she might see me on the beach even at a distance, so I turned into a side street, and the next corner I turned brought me straight to you."
There was indeed consternation in the Sherwood cottage when, after the unpleasant caller had left the house, Polly commenced to look for Rose, and no Rose could be found, though thorough search was made, the servants gladly assisting, and just as Polly was crying, and declaring that she could not taste the least bit of food until Rose was found, the telephone rang.
Glad news it was that Rose was safe with Aunt Judith, and Mrs. Sherwood and Polly accepted Aunt Judith's invitation to come and spend the next day at her cottage.
Aunt Judith had gone a short distance to Mrs. Grafton's house, and she had sent her message from there.
"Hurrah!" cried Harry, as Aunt Judith turned from the telephone. "I'm glad ithappened that Rose had to run away, for we've missed her all these weeks that she's been spending at the shore. We'll be over to-morrow to see her, won't we, Leslie?" and he gave one of Leslie's long curls a sly twitch.
"We surely will, unless you pull all my hair out when I'd want to hide my head," Leslie said, laughing.
"Oh, pshaw! The way I pull your curls amounts to just love pats," Harry cried.
"You wouldn't say so if I twitched your hair like that," Leslie responded.
"I guess I'll go down and get my hair shingled so you won't be able to get hold of it," he said. "Lend me a quarter, Leslie? I spent all I had to-day on candy and a new bat."
Leslie refused and Harry chased her, the two laughing as they ran.
"I never saw a brother and sister who played together so prettily," Aunt Judith said.
"They are great chums," Mrs. Grafton said. "Of course Harry has his boy friends, and Leslie is very fond of Lena Lindsey, but for all that my boy and girl are fast friends, and they love each other dearly."
"I like to see it," Aunt Judith said.
She hurried back to the cottage where Rose at the window was eagerly watching for her.
"Mrs. Sherwood's voice sounded very anxious when she replied to my call at the telephone, and the tone of quick relief when I told her that you were safe here at the cottage with me was very evident.
"Polly had cried until she was about sick, but of course, she will be all rightnow, and they will both be with us here to-morrow, for the day."
"That will be fine," cried Rose, "and you'll set the larger table to-morrow, and make it look fine, but to-night, Aunt Judith, just to-night let's have the little tea table, just as we used to when I lived here with you, with the pretty pale green dishes, and the dear little sugar and cream set with the pink moss-rose buds on it. May we, Aunt Judith?"
Aunt Judith came and took the pretty face between her two hands, and looked into the eager brown eyes for a moment.
"We'll have our little tea just as we used to, because it will please you, and because I'd like nothing better," she said.
"And let me help at the table, just as I used to," Rose said, and together they worked, Rose bringing the rosebud china,while Aunt Judith brought the pale green plates, and cups and saucers from the little china closet, and placed them upon the dainty, spindle-legged table. There were tiny, fresh rolls, chocolate with cream, a dish of raspberry jam of which Rose was very fond, and even the little round pound cakes that Rose so well remembered. Aunt Judith had sent a small boy to purchase them for her while she was telephoning at Mrs. Grafton's.
When all was ready, they took their places, Aunt Judith pouring the chocolate, while Rose served the cream from the dainty jug, and dropped the cubes of sugar from the quaint little silver tongs.
"Aunt Judith, I'm so happy with Uncle John, that everything I have at his home seems perfect, but there's one queer thing that I don't understand. No raspberryjam ever seems just like the jam I always had at this cottage."
Aunt Judith was delighted.
"To think that you would always remember the jam, and think it a bit nicer than any other!" she said.
"Perhaps it was because we were choice of it, and served it on Sundays and holidays that made you think it extra nice."
Rose leaned toward her and laid her hand upon her arm. "And perhaps it was because you always kept the jam in that lovely cream colored crock that has the butterflies upon it. I do believe things taste nicer for being kept in pretty jars like that."
"I think so, too," Aunt Judith said, "but your Uncle John has beautiful china, so doubtless his housekeeper could find plenty of pretty dishes for serving."
"Oh, she does," Rose replied, "but in the closet, the jam is kept in a stone crock, while yours was always in the butterfly jar that I always thought so lovely."
"The dearest thing about this cosy little tea is the fact——" Aunt Judith bent to kiss her cheek, "that I have you for my guest, little Rose."