She chose one taller than herself, lifted it with a great effort, and staggered to the edge of the steep bank, to drop it in.
By this time Mildred was running back; and when she saw what the child was about to do, she raised a shout of warning. "Stop! Stop, Ivy!" she called. "Don't!"
But this had just an opposite result to what Mildred intended. Instead of making Ivy step back, it only made her start and turn, with her back to the river. She was close to the edge; and the sudden movement caused her to over-balance herself. With a sharp cry, she fell backwards into the water, still clasping the bough, and was swept downward towards the covered way.
Hecla and Mildred screamed aloud; and Mildred rushed to the spot from which the little one had fallen—only to see her disappearing under the archway. Then she turned and tore down the stream, frantic with terror; and Hecla rushed thither also, shrieking wildly.
But somebody was before them!
Mildred and Hecla, full of their sport, had not noticed a quiet figure coming along the road from lower down the river. Miss Storey had been to luncheon with friends in that direction, and she was now returning alone. She expected to find her sister and the children somewhere about here, since she was aware of Miss Anne's intention to take them to the river, if Hecla were good.
And as she drew near, walking in her quiet and staid and gentle way, wearing her best black silk gown and beaded black mantle, with new grey kid gloves, she noted three figures some distance ahead, and made out that two of them were Hecla and Ivy. But the third puzzled her. She was rather shortsighted; still she felt sure that her sister Anne never raced about as that third person was doing. So she supposed that somebody else had joined them, and that Miss Anne was near at hand, sitting out of sight and keeping watch.
She followed with her gaze the two elder children racing down the stream and leaving little Ivy alone, and she recognised Mildred, but still saw no signs of Miss Anne anywhere, which seemed strange; so she came faster. And then, to her horror, she noted little Ivy, all by herself with a bough in her arms, going close to the steep edge of the stream, and leaning fearlessly over to pitch the bough in.
It was of no use for Miss Storey to call. Her voice was weak, and she was not near enough. She could only hurry breathlessly on, as she saw the elder children again rushing up the road, and heard Mildred's cry of warning.
And then her heart seemed to stand still, and she turned sick and faint, and a shower of black specks danced before her eyes, as Ivy toppled backwards into the river.