Yet there upon the roof of the cabin, cheerily looking out from his “bridge” was Cap’n Jack. He was waving his crutches in jovial welcome and trying to cover Chloe’s wailing by his exultant:
“I fished him out with a boat-hook! With—a—boat-hook, d’ye hear?”
CHAPTER VII.
VISITORS.
Attracted by the wild flowers growing in the fields around the cove where the Water Lily was moored, the four girls had left the boat a little while before the melon seekers had done so.
Mabel and Aurora cared little for flowers in themselves but Dorothy’s eagerness was infectious, and Elsa’s pale face had lighted with pleasure. But even then her timidity moved her to say:
“Suppose something happens? Suppose we should get lost? It’s a strange, new place—I guess—I’m afraid—I’ll stay with Mrs. Calvert, please.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind, my dear,” said that lady, smiling. “You’ve done altogether too much ‘staying’ in your short life. Time now to get outdoor air and girlish fun. Go with Dorothy and get some color into your cheeks. You want to go back to that father of yours looking a very different Elsa from the one he trusted to us. Run along! Don’t bother about a hat and jacket. Exercise will keep you from taking cold. Dolly, dear, see that the child has a good time.”