“Oh! O-o-o-oh!” she breathed. “The beauty! The beauty!”
She took out the pin. It was delicately wrought of platinum and studded with diamond chips and tiny half-pearls. It was not very expensive; but it showed skilled workmanship and was an ornament that would surely attract attention. Yet it was simple enough to look well if worn by a young girl.
Larry Haven’s taste could not be criticized. If he had selected the pin himself (and Beth believed he had, from what he had said at its presentation), it showed that he thought of her—that he still considered Beth his little friend and comrade.
Yet, if so, why had he neglected coming to the Bemis Street cottage all summer? This still puzzled and troubled the girl.
At supper time Beth and Molly went up to the saloon deck and the captain of the waiters found the two friends seats at a pleasant table. Beth looked for the freckled girl but did not see her. Yet Beth was sure she had not gone ashore at either of the landings.
While the girls ate and enjoyed their supper, a mist arose and enfolded the steamboat and enshrouded the face of the river. When they came out on the open deck again, the clammy breath of the mist fanned their cheeks, and all they could see of the banks on either hand were occasional twinkling lights—either on scattered farmsteads or in tiny villages or ferry-houses.
“B-r-r-r-r! It’s going to be a nasty night,” said Molly Granger. “I shall go to bed early. No fun sitting up unless the moon shines. Then it is lovely to be out here and watch the shores. The old steamer won’t stop again till we reach Marbury—about midnight.”
“I was hoping for a moonlit night,” said Beth, disappointedly.
“Better to get a good sleep, for to-morrow will be a long day,” said Molly, showing a streak of good sense that Beth had not known she possessed. “We may not get to bed to-morrow night till late; for we may be delayed in reaching Rivercliff. I’ve been as late as eleven o’clock getting off this boat at that landing.”
“I guess you know best, Molly,” agreed Beth.