“I don’t know, Susan, but they will succeed provided we don’t hamper them by giving way ourselves to despair!”
“My child! My child!” murmured the poor woman, choked by sobs.
Seeing his mother crying, Bob stood in wonder, with his eyes wide open.
Jenny drew him to her and took him on her knees.
“Mummy was anxious, darling! She called you, and you didn’t answer, and then—you were playing on the sand, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” said Bob; “with the boat that Block made for me. But I wanted him to make a little white sail for it, so that it could sail. There are holes full of water in the sand where I can put it. Aunty Dolly promised to make me a sail.”
“Yes, Bob dear; you shall have it to-day,” Dolly promised.
“Two sails,” the child answered; “two sails like the boat that brought us here.”
“Of course,” Jenny answered. “Aunty Dolly will make you a lovely sail, and I will make you one, too.”
“Thank you, thank you, Jenny,” Bob answered, clapping his hands. “But where is our big boat? I can’t see it anywhere!”