"What's up?" cried Tom to Jasper, on the way to the girls with some fear, for he didn't dare even yet to talk much to Polly. As for Adela, he let her severely alone.
"Don't know," said Jasper, "but we'll soon find out," and they did, by Phronsie's flying away from Polly and skipping down over the rocks to meet them.
"Oh, Jasper, Polly's telling how we would sail on that beautiful cloud," announced Phronsie, her yellow hair flying from her face as she sped along, heedless of her steps.
"Take care or you'll fall," warned Jasper. "See, your mother is looking worried." And, truth to tell, Mrs. Fisher, on a point of rocks a little way off with the others, was getting a bit alarmed as she saw the progress of her baby.
"I'll take care," said Phronsie, sobering down at thought of Mamsie's being troubled, and beginning to pick her way carefully. And Jasper gathered up her fingers in his, thinking of the time when she toiled up and down the long stairway, when she first came to what was now her home, blessed thought! and Polly and he sat down at the foot to watch her.
"And so Polly and you are going to try sailing on that cloud there," said Jasper, squinting up at the brilliant sky.
"We aren't really going, Jasper," said Phronsie, shaking her head, soberly, "because you see we can't. But Polly's pretending it all; and we're to sit on the edge and swing our feet. And Adela is going to make a picture of us."
"Whew!" whistled Jasper. "And I say, Polly,"—for now they had scrambled up to the two girls,—"isn't there room for us on that cloud too?" While Tom kicked pebbles, and wished he knew how to talk to girls.
"Perhaps," said Polly, gaily. "Oh, I suppose that those who couldn't get on our cloud could take the next one."
"I'd rather have your cloud, Polly," said Jasper.