“But it’s the name of my fairy, too,” persisted Arthur. “She lives in Ireland and she chooses flowers for her homes. She came into the garden looking for a new house when we saw her. She flew from one flower to another, but she didn’t stay.”
The child was so inspired by his recollections of Lilli-Bullero, that he did not notice the wrathful figure of Dr. Benton hurrying down the deck. The old man had slipped on his overcoat over his dressing gown, and the skirts of these two voluminous garments, blown about by the scurrying wind, impeded his walk so that he hardly made any progress.
“Arthur, boy,” he thundered, half-way down the deck.
Arthur looked up quickly, gave a wild elfin laugh at the spectacle of the old man trying to keep his bare legs covered from the cold, then broke away and ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction.
The doctor shook his fist at him.
“You young scamp! I shall report the matter to your father at once,” he cried. “How dare you disobey me when you have strict orders to obey?”
Billie and Feargus leaned on the ship’s rail and watched the scene. It was none of their affair and they had no intention of interfering.
“Horrid old man!” cried Arthur. “I hate you and I shall tell my father so. I will not obey you, so there!”
He darted down the deck, the old man after him, his coat tails flapping ludicrously, and they disappeared around the end of the ship.
The young people laughed gayly.