“Oh, I know you would! So I want you all to come,” said Miss Polly, who, having reached her own gateway, paused for a general good-bye. “I don’t know your names, but I want you all to come with Dan to my party.”
“If we can get here,” replied Dan. “Captain Jeb wouldn’t trust us to sail his boat, and I don’t know that he could come with us.”
“Oh, he will,—he must!” persisted Polly.
“He ain’t the will-and-must kind,” said Dan, nodding.
“Then maybe I can send for you,” the little lady went on eagerly. “My cousins are coming over from Rock-haven on dad’s yacht, and I’ll make them stop at Killykinick and bring you all with them to my party.”
And, with a gay little nod that included all her nice boys, little Miss Polly disappeared among the hydrangeas; while the others kept on down to the wharf, where the “Sary Ann” was already swinging out her dingy sail, and Brother Bart was growing anxious and nervous.
Merry good-byes were spoken, and very soon the boys were on their homeward way, with Beach Cliff vanishing in the distance. There had been no bids to the Fosters’ cottage, which was already filled with grown-up guests. Dud was sullen and disappointed; lazy Jim a little tired; while Freddy, seated in the bottom of the boat, dropped his curly head on Brother Bart’s knee and went off to sleep. But to Dan the day had been a most pleasant experience, a glimpse of a friendly, beautiful world whose gates he had never thought to pass; and Aunt Winnie’s Dan was very happy as he steered the “Sary Ann” over a smiling summer sea without a clouding shadow.
“How did you push in so quick to the Foresters?” sneered Dud.
“Looking for two lost donkeys,” retorted Dan, who was learning to give Dud as good as he sent.
“Maybe you think you’ll get there again,” said Dud. “Well you won’t, I can tell you that. It was all very well to make up so strong to a little fool girl; but they are the tiptoppers of Beach Cliff, and you won’t hear any more of Miss Polly’s yacht or her party.”