Three Little Cousins

Miss Ada put a kind hand on her head. "And all this time you have been distressing yourself about it, you poor little kitten? I ought to have told you, but you were so pleased in thinking it was real I thought I would let it go, and I have not thought of it since. Why, dear, it was of no value at all, a mere trumpery little rhinestone that cost only a couple of dollars."

Mary lifted her tearful eyes. "Oh, I am so relieved," she said. "I've searched and searched for it ever since."

"Yes, Aunt Ada, and she has been nearly sick over it," put in Molly. "She cried herself to sleep last night, and the reason she wouldn't go sailing with us the other day was because she wanted to hunt for the pin."

"You poor little darling, how can I make up to you for all this trouble?" said Miss Ada compassionately. "I am so sorry; it is all my fault for not telling you in the first place."

On the strength of this there seemed no better time to confess her doings of the afternoon when she had gone to Green Island in the Leona, and so Mary faltered out her tale, Molly once in a while coming in with excuses and comments so that in the end Miss Ada was not "vexed" at all but only said, "If it had been any one but Ellis, I might feel inclined to warn you against going out in a row-boat, but he is a good, careful little lad, and if you will call it quits, Mary, I will, for I am conscience-stricken my own self; but next time, dearie, ask me when you want to go on the water."

"Oh, I will, I will," said Mary fervently. "It was because I felt so dreadful at losing the brooch that I didn't tell this time."

"It is a perfect shame," said her Aunt Ada, cuddling her close. "I hope now you will never find the old pin. I never want to see it again, for it would remind me of how my dear little niece suffered."

"But I was bad. I deceived you." Mary's head went down again in her aunt's lap. "I was afraid to tell you," she murmured.

"Afraid of what, dear child? Not of your Aunt Ada?"

"I don't know, oh, I don't know why I was so scared. Miss Sharp is always so terribly severe when we are careless or try to get out of any thing we have done wrong."

"But I'm not Miss Sharp, honey. Just forget all about this, if you love me. Of course you weren't quite frank, but you were scared and it is as much my fault as yours; mine and Miss Sharp's," she added half to herself.

Yet they were destined to see the pin again, for that very afternoon, as they were coming home, whom should they meet but Polly and Grace. "Guess what we've found!" cried Grace.

"See, Miss Ada, we were looking for birds' nests between your cottage and ours, and we found this caught in the grass just near where a sparrow had built. Polly says she thinks it is yours, that it looks like one you lent to Mary to wear to the party." And she held out the little shining star in the palm of her hand.

Miss Ada took it and gave a whimsical look at Mary. "Yes, I believe it is mine," she said. She tossed it back and forth from one hand to the other as she stood thinking.

"Ellis Dixon came along just after we found it, and he seemed awfully pleased," Grace went on.

Miss Ada laughed softly. "Thank you very much, Grace, dear," she said. "It was good of you to bring it right to me." Then changing the subject she asked, "How is your grandmother to-day?"

"Not so very well," Grace replied. Then with sudden remembrance, "I must go right back, for she worries if I am not in time for supper." And she sped away.

Miss Ada stood still smiling and looking from one of her nieces to the other. She continued to toss the little star from one hand to the other. "I know what I am going to do with it," she said looking at Mary. "I'm going to give it to Luella for a wedding present."

CHAPTER VIII

Ellis and the Baby

That evening Polly was told the whole story and was properly contrite. She felt a little aggrieved that she had not been one of the party to go to Elton woods, but she realized that it was her own fault, and offered at once to "make up" with Molly and Mary. So all was serene again, and the three children sat side by side all evening before the open fire, listening to a fascinating story Uncle Dick read aloud to them, and at last the three fell asleep all in a heap, Molly's head in Polly's lap, and the other two resting against Miss Ada's knees. When they all stumbled upstairs to bed, they were not too sleepy, however, to kiss one another good-night, and indeed were so bent upon showing no partiality that they all tumbled into the same bed, which happened to be Mary's, where they went to sleep, hugging each other tight.

The brightness of the restored pin seemed to be reflected upon them all after this. Uncle Dick was so tremendously funny at breakfast that Polly fell from her chair with laughter, and Luella giggled so that she held a plate of griddle cakes at such an angle that the whole pile slid off on the floor; then every one laughed more than ever and Molly said that her jaws fairly ached and that she would have to spend the day with Cap'n Dave's old white horse, for he had such a solemn face it made you want to sigh all the time. Of course this started the children off again and they left the table in high spirits.

Yet before the day was over they had occasion to look serious without the society of old Bill horse, for about ten o'clock Ellis appeared, trouble puckering his pleasant face into worried lines. He had forgotten all about the finding of the pin in a more personal interest, for the cares of life had been suddenly thrust upon him. His brother Parker the day before had sailed away to the Grand Banks for sword-fishing. He had left his young wife and little baby in Ellis's charge. Now Leona had fallen ill, "and," said Ellis, "it's up to me to take care of the baby."

"Is there no one else?" asked Miss Ada, as Ellis told his doleful tale.

"Ora Hart is taking care of Leona," Ellis answered; "but she has as much as she can do to look after her own children. She's Leona's cousin and she's awful good to come in at all. You see most everybody's got folks of their own to see to, and they can't spare much time, although they're all willin' enough to do what they can. I ain't much used to babies myself. I got Nellie Brown to look after her while I come up here. I knew you'd wonder why I didn't bring them clams I promised, and so I come to tell you why. I hope it won't put you out, Miss Ada."

"We can have something else just as well," she told him. "We are rather used to not getting just what we plan for," she went on, smiling, for be it known one could never tell, at the Point, just how an order might turn out. If one expected lamb chops like as not "Hen Roberts hadn't fetched over no lamb," or if mackerel had been ordered like as not the fish delivered would be cod, and the excuse would be that some one came along and carried off the entire supply of mackerel before the last orders were filled; therefore it was no new experience for Miss Ada to have to alter her bill of fare.

"I'm awful sorry about havin' to stay home just now," said Ellis disconsolately, "for this is when I expected to get in some time with the boat. I promised two or three parties to take 'em out, and now I'll have to get some one else to take my place, but I'll have to let 'em go shares. Park's let me have the Leona whilst he's away, but, if I could run her myself, I could make twice as much."

The three little girls listened attentively, and presently Polly twitched her Aunt Ada's sleeve. "Couldn't we take care of the baby?" she whispered.

Miss Ada looked down at her with a smile, but shook her head.

"Oh, why not?" said Polly in ft louder whisper. "I'd love to."

"So would I," came from Molly on the other side.

Miss Ada beholding the eager faces said: "Wait a moment, Ellis. I want to talk over something with these girls of mine." She led the way indoors, leaving Ellis on the porch. "Now, lassies," she said when they were all in the living-room, "what is it you want to do?"

"We want to take care of Ellis's baby," chanted the two, and Mary coming in as a third repeated the words.

"But do you realize what it would mean? You would have to give up much of your playtime, and could not go off sailing or rowing or picnicking."

"We could go picnicking," insisted Polly, "because we could take the baby with us."

"Very well, we will leave out the picnic. I might get Luella to stay afternoons sometimes, but you know she goes home to help her mother, for Mrs. Barnes has more laundry work than she can do, and Luella has to help her when she can; those were the only terms upon which she would consent to come to me; so you see we can't count on Luella."

"It may not be for very long," said Polly, hopefully. "Leona may soon get well."

"If it is typhoid, as they suspect, she is likely to be ill a long time."

"Well, I don't care; I'll give up my afternoons," decided Polly.

"And I'll give up my mornings," said Molly, not to be outdone. "And then the baby does sleep some, so we can play while she is asleep. Oh, Polly, we could have lovely times playing with something alive like that."

"Wouldn't it be jolly to have a real live baby for a doll," put in Mary.

"I see you are not to be put off," said Miss Ada, laughing, "so I will allow you to undertake the charge for a week, and at the end of that time if I think it is too much for you, I shall have to insist that you give it up."

"Oh, we'll never think it is too much," declared Polly with conviction, and the others echoed her.

So they all trooped out to Ellis. "We have the loveliest plan," Molly began eagerly.

"You can have all your time," put in Polly.

"I am so very pleased to be able to do something for you when you were so kind to me," said Mary earnestly.

Ellis looked bewildered.

"The girls propose to take care of your brother's little baby for a week, Ellis," Miss Ada explained.

"Oh, I can't let 'em do that," said Ellis bashfully.

"Oh, but we are just wild to," Polly assured him.