It was an eager company gathered in the big saloon of the Water Lily. No time had been lost by all these seekers after the “buried treasure” in obeying Farmer Corny’s summons to follow him; and having arrived at the boat, found the Colonel, his daughter, and grandchild already there.
The Colonel’s proud introduction of his newly restored family found a warm welcome at Aunt Betty’s hands, and she and the younger matron, members both of “first families,” were friends at once. As for little Eunice, who had always shrunk from the presence of strangers, there was no shrinking now. Her grandfather had set her down upon the floor, while he presented Mrs. Jabb—even deigning to call her by that name—and the little one had looked about her in great curiosity.
Then she perceived Elsa, holding out entreating hands, and promptly ran to throw herself into the welcoming arms. Instantly there was sympathy between these two afflicted young things and, as a new sound fell upon the little one’s ear, the elder girl explained:
“The monkeys! Would you like to see the monkeys? Or would you be afraid?”
“Eunice never saw monkeys. What are monkeys? Are they people or just dear, dear animals?”
“They’re not people, darling, though oddly like them. Come and see.” Elsa was herself so shy in the presence of strangers, especially so majestic a person as the mistress of Lady Cecilia’s Manor, that she was glad to escape to the tender where her charges were in their cage; and for once the little animals were docile while on exhibition, so that Eunice’s delight was perfect. Indeed, she was so fascinated by them that she could scarcely be induced to leave them, and when she was compelled to do so by her mother’s voice, she walked backward, keeping her eyes fixed upon those delectable creatures till the last instant.
Meanwhile those in the cabin of the Lily were merrily disputing over who should open the “find,” and finally drew lots upon it. Careful Mrs. Bruce had brought a tray to put under the muddy box and brushed the dirt from it, till she was prevented by the hubbub of voices, in which that of the newcomer, Mrs. Jabb, was uppermost. She was exclaiming:
“The lot is Corny’s! Oh! I’m glad of that, and I say right here and now that if I have any share in the ‘treasure’ I pass it onto him ‘unsight, unseen,’ as we used to say when, boy and girl together, we exchanged our small belongings.”
“Pooh! Joe, I don’t half like it! But—shall I, folks? Looks as if the box would come to pieces at a breath.”
“Yes, yes, you—you do it! And we ratify what Mrs. Jabb has said. Anyone of us who has a right to any of the contents of the ‘treasure’ he has found will pass it on to Mr. Cornwallis Stillwell,” said Aunt Betty. “Dolly, hand him this little silver ice-hammer, to strike the chest with.”