Three Little Cousins by Amy Ella Blanchard (i have read the book a hundred times .txt) 📖

buy a ring."

Mary took this perfectly seriously. "I suppose six little diamonds would cost as much as twenty pounds," she said.

"Yes, one might get six, not too big, for that price. The little ones cost much less than the big one in proportion. A large solitaire costs much more than a number of small ones taking up as much space. But why this sudden interest in diamonds? Have you twenty pounds to spend and are you thinking of spending it all in diamonds to take home as a gift to your mother?"

"Oh, no, I have only one pound to spend, and mamma wouldn't wish me to spend all that upon her."

"Then let's talk of something else; song-sparrows or sand-peeps or sea-gulls, or something not so sordid as gold and diamonds. Look at that yacht out there, isn't it a corker? Now, when I have money to spend I shall not buy diamonds, I shall buy a yacht. By the way, did you know we were all going out sailing this afternoon, to Rocky Point?"

"Are we?" said Mary listlessly.

"Why I thought you would enjoy it. We have been talking of this sail for two or three days, and you little kitties were wild about it, I thought."

"I am delighted; of course I am," returned Mary with more show of interest. "Shall we take supper there? I heard Aunt Ada and Luella talking about sandwiches."

"Yes, that is the intention. We shall not try sailing by the outside route but will go around by Middle Bay where it is not rough. Polly has not tried sailing yet, and we must be sure of smooth waters. If it gets too much for her we can set her ashore somewhere and she can come back by the next steamboat. She is calling you now."

Mary slipped away to join Polly and Molly. "We are going to look for wild strawberries," they said; "Aunt Ada said we might."

"I'm going barefoot," Polly informed her, "but Molly won't; she is afraid of taking cold; you aren't, are you, Mary?"

Mary was most decided in her refusal to take off her shoes and stockings, declaring that her mother would certainly disapprove, but her heart leaped within her when told that they were to look for strawberries. She would then have an excuse to continue her search for the lost pin, and therefore she set for herself the bounds which included the path to the landing. But it must be confessed that she found few strawberries and was crowed over by the others.

"You might have known you couldn't find near so many there along the path," Polly told her. "Why, they are as thick as can be over there where nobody walks."

Mary made no excuse for her choice, and indeed made no reply.

"You aren't mad, are you?" asked Polly after looking at her for a moment.

Mary shook her head.

"Tell me, are you homesick, Mary? I won't tell any one if that is what is the matter."

Again only a shake of the head in reply.

"Well, you needn't tell if you don't want to," said Polly, walking off. She was a quick-tempered little soul, easily offended, and when Mary decided that she would rather stay at home with Luella that afternoon, than run the risk of being seasick, Polly made up her mind that either Mary really was homesick, or that she did not care for the society of her American cousins.

"I'm not going to insist on playing with her. She needn't think I'm so crazy about it that I can't keep away from her," she confided to Molly after they had set sail.

"Oh, but maybe she really is homesick," said Molly, "and maybe we ought not to have gone away and left her."

"But Uncle Dick and Aunt Ada said we should."

"That was because Mary was so determined not to go. She was seasick nearly all the way coming from England, and Aunt Ada thinks that is why she was afraid to go to-day."

"Oh, nonsense! Nobody could be seasick on this smooth water," said Polly, looking over the side of the boat at the blue waves. "Isn't it jolly, Molly?"

"Jolly Molly sounds funny," laughed Molly.

"So does jolly Polly," returned Polly. Then, fumbling in her uncle's pocket, she found a bit of paper and a pencil; in a moment she handed to Molly the following brilliant production:


"Golly, Molly,
It's jolly,
Polly


This sent them both into shrieks of merriment, for it took very little to start the two laughing, and they soon forgot Mary.

"Look here," called Uncle Dick, "I shall have to make you two laugh the other side of the mouth, for you're tipping the boat all to one aide. Shift them a little bit further, Ada. We're going to run into the cove for supper."

The beautiful little cove made a quiet and safe harbor. Here they anchored and made ready to make coffee, roast potatoes and toast marshmallows.


CHAPTER V


Mary and the Boy

Meanwhile Mary at the cottage was disconsolate enough. To be sure Luella was rather a cheerful companion, and even Miss Ada's Maltese kitten, Cosey, was not to be despised as giving a comforting presence. Yet the weight of her loss lay heavily upon Mary, and she soon escaped from Luella to begin again the weary search. She was on her knees before a large rock when she heard a voice above her say: "What you looking for? A sparrow's nest? I know where there is one."

Mary looked up to see a barefooted boy peering down at her. He had a pleasant face and appeared much as other boys, though she saw at once that he was a fisherman's son, and not one of the summer visitors. "No, I'm not looking for a bird's nest," she said slowly; "I've lost something. Did--did--do you know if any one has found a piece of jewelry?" It flashed across her that she might do well to confide in the little lad.

"Why, no, I don't," he replied, "but I'll help you look for it. I'd just as lief as not. What was it like?"

Mary glanced around her. "I'll tell you," she said, "but I don't want any one else to know. I am so afraid my aunt will be vexed. It is a brooch, a diamond brooch in the shape of a star, that I wore to the party the other night. I lost it coming home, I think."

"It will be pretty hard to find, I'm afraid," said the boy. "Why don't you tack up a notice in the post-office?"

"Oh, because I don't want my aunt to know. I thought if I could only find it, I'd so much rather not tell."

"But, say, you don't stand near so good a chance of finding it if nobody knows."

Mary pondered over this, her desire to find the pin battling with her desire to keep the loss a secret. "I'll look a little longer," she said at last, "and then if I don't find it I will have to tell."

"I guess you do feel pretty bad about it," said the boy. "Diamonds are valuable and if anybody found the pin it might be a temptation to keep it, especially if it wasn't known who it belonged to. We're pretty honest about here and I guess the Green Island people are, too, so, if it's found, I guess you'll get it again as soon as it's known who lost it."

"I've looked and looked all the way from here to the landing," said Mary disconsolately, "and I don't believe it is here. I do wish I could get over to Green Island somehow."

"Why, it's easy enough to get there," said the boy. "Us boys go over often to pick berries, or sell lobsters to the hotel. I'll row you over in my brother Parker's boat; I know he'll let me have it."

"Oh, how very kind! I would be so relieved. It is most kind of you to offer to take me. Could we go now, before the others get back?"

"Why, I guess so. You come on with me and I'll see. Park's down to the fish-house, and I know he won't be using the boat to-day. You know who I am, don't you? I live in that yellow house just this side Hobbs's store, and I'm Park Dixon's brother Ellis. I'm going lobstering next year; I'm big enough."

Mary looked him over. He was not very big, she thought, but she did not know just what was the necessary size for one to reach in order to go lobstering, yet it seemed rather to place him in a position to be a safe guide, and she was glad he had told her. "I'm sure," she said following out her thought, "that you're quite big enough to take me."

"Of course I am," he said. "I've sot over quite a lot of people to Green's Island. I sot over a man last week."

Mary hesitated before she asked, "If you please, what is sot over?"

"Why, row 'em over. If you don't take the steamboat there ain't no other way than to be sot over, you see."

"Oh, I see. Thank you. Shall we go to the fish-house now?"

"Why, yes, or you can wait here if you'd rather."

Upon considering, Mary concluded it would be more satisfactory to go, for perhaps Ellis might give her the slip, or, if the big brother objected, she might add her persuasions to Ellis's and so clinch the matter. Yet while she stood waiting for Ellis to make his request for the boat, she had many compunctions of conscience. She had never before done so bold and desperate a thing. She had scarcely ever appeared on the street without her governess, and indeed it was the strict measures of this same governess which made the child timid about confessing the loss of the pin. As she thought about the trip to Green Island with a strange little boy to whom she had never even spoken before that day, it seemed a monstrous undertaking, and for a moment she quailed before the prospect. Yet what joy if she should return with the precious pin and be able to restore it without a word of censure from any one. This thought decided her to follow when Ellis beckoned to her. Big Parker Dixon smiled and nodded from where he was unloading shining mackerel and big gaping cod, and Mary knew his consent had been given.

"It is a very smelly place," she remarked as she picked her way along the wet fish-house floor.

Ellis laughed. "That's what you summer folks think; we like it."

"Fancy liking it," said Mary, then feeling that perhaps that did not show a proper attitude toward one so kind as Ellis, she hastened to say, "No doubt it is a lovely smell, you know, and if I were an American perhaps I should prefer it, but I am English, you see."

"That's what makes