"You want me to run up the hill after a doll!" asked the boy, laughing. He began to believe his pretty cousin was very fond of joking. "Something might happen to her before you saw her," he added mischievously.
The pond was a charming sheet of water. Trees lined its edges in summer, and it was a great place for sport in winter. Faith and Ernest chattered to their cousin of all the coasting and skating, and their bright faces and jolly stories only increased the uncomfortable feeling that Gladys had allowed to slip into her heart.
Her cousins had more fun than she did. It wasn't fair. She had no eyes for the pretty scenery about her, as Ernest's strong arms sent the boat flying along. Faith noticed her changed looks and for the first time wondered how it was going to seem to have Gladys to take care of for—they couldn't tell how long; but she only tried the harder to bring back the bright look her cousin had worn at dinner time.
In a few minutes Gladys began to rock the boat from side to side.
"Don't do that, please," said Ernest.
There was a tone of command in his voice, and the spoiled child only rocked the harder.
"None of that, I tell you, Gladys," he said sharply.
"Please don't," added Faith.
But the error that Gladys had let creep in was enjoying her cousin's anxiety, and she smiled teasingly as she went on rocking. She had condescended to come out to the farm, and she would let these country children see if they could order her about.