"It is that! No finer craft sails the waves than this."
"What is that mountain in the distance?" asked Marjorie, shading her eyes with her hand as she looked across the street.
"That's a—a peak of the Rockies, ma'am. And now we are passing the famous statue of 'Liberty Enlightening the World.'"
As the statue to which Kingdon pointed was really Mrs. Maynard, who had come out on the veranda, and stood with her hand high against a post, the children shouted with laughter.
But this was quickly suppressed, as part of the fun of making-believe was to keep grave about it.
"Is your daughter ill, madam?" asked Marjorie of Kitty, whose doll hung over her arm in a dejected way.
"No, indeed!" cried Kitty, righting poor Arabella. "She is as well as anything. Only she's a little afraid of the ocean. It seems to be getting rougher."
It did seem so. The swing was not only going more rapidly, but was joggling from side to side.
"Don't be alarmed, ladies," said the gallant Captain; "there's no danger, I assure you."
"I'm not afraid of the sea," said Marjorie, "as much as I am of that fearful wild bear. Will he bite?"