"Did Bertha ever say anything about it, Mrs. Foley?"
"Not much. 'Tis Hen will be the rich wan. Oh, yes. And glad I am if the child is about to come into her own. She's no business to be running down here every chance she gets. I had himself telephone to Bertha when he went to town this morning, and it is likely she will be here after the child. Hen's as wild as a hawk."
Bertha Blair, in fact, appeared in a hired car before Jessie and Amy were ready to return in their canoe to Roselawn. She was quite as excited as Henrietta had been about the strange fortune that promised to come into their lives. Bertha could tell the chums from Roselawn many more particulars of the Padriac Haney property.
"If little Henrietta will only be good and not be so wild and learn her lessons and mind what she's told," Bertha said seriously, "maybe she will have money and an island—or part of one, anyway. But she does not behave very well. She is as wild as a March hare."
Little Henrietta looked serious for her; but Mrs. Foley took her part at once.
"Sure don't be expectin' too much of the child at wance, Bertha. She's run as wild as the wind itself here. She's fought and played with these Dogtown kids since she was able to toddle around. What would ye expect?"
"But she must learn," declared the older girl. "Mrs. Blair won't take us to the island this summer if she is not good."
"Then I'll go myself," announced Henrietta. "It's my island, ain't it? Who has a better right there?"
Jessie took a hand at this point, shaking her head gravely at the freckled little girl.
"Do you suppose, Henrietta Haney, that your friends—like Mrs. Foley or Mrs. Blair, or even Amy and I—will want to come to your island to see you if you are not a good girl?"