"There is a good deal in that," sighed Jessie to the other Roselawn girls. "The poor little thing! She never did have a chance. But Momsy is already talking about sending her away to school to have her toned down and——"
"Suppose the Blairs won't hear to it?" suggested Amy.
"Leave it to Momsy to work things out her way," said Jessie, more gaily.
They soon left the sand dunes behind them and marched up over what the natives of the island called "the downs" to a scrubby pasture at the edge of the golf links. Crossing the links watchfully they only had to dodge a couple of times when the players called "Fore!" and so got safely past the various greens and reached the patch of wood between the club premises and the hotel grounds.
There was a spring here which they had been told about, and it was near enough noon for lunch to occupy an important place in their minds. They spent an hour here; but after that, much as she had eaten, Henrietta began to run around again. She could not keep still.
Her voice was suddenly stilled and she halted in the path and stood like a pointer flushing a covey of birds. The older girls were surprised. Amy drawled:
"What's the matter, Hen? You don't feel sick, do you?"
"I hear something," declared Henrietta, her freckled face clouding. "I hear somebody talk that I don't like."
"Who is that?" asked Nell.
"She makes me feel sick, all right," grumbled the little girl. "Oh, yes! It's her. And if she says again that she owns my island, I'll—I'll——"