Ruby came forward.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” she said, with the half-patronising good humour usual to her when not put out. “I thought it was. It’s Winfried, cousin Hortensia; the boy I told you of. I suppose you’ve come for some soup for your grandfather.”
Winfried smiled, a little more than before. Mavis crept forward; she wished she could have said something, but she was afraid of vexing Ruby.
“No, miss,” said Winfried, “I did not come for that, though grandfather said it was very kind of you, and some day perhaps—” he stopped short.
“I came to bring you this which I found on the rocks down below our cottage;” and he held out a little silver cross. Ruby started, and put her hand up to her neck.
“Oh dear,” she said, “I never knew I had lost it. Are you sure it isn’t yours, Mavis? I’ve got my cord on.”
“Yes, but the cross must have dropped off,” said Mavis. “I have mine all right.”
And so it proved. Both little sisters wore these crosses, which were exactly alike. Ruby took hers from Winfried, and began examining it to see how it had got loose. Miss Hortensia came forward.
“It was very good of you to bring the little cross,” she said kindly; for something about the boy attracted her very much. “Ruby, my dear,” she went on half reprovingly. Ruby started and looked up. “I am sure you are very much obliged?”
“Oh yes, of course I am,” said the little girl carelessly. “It certainly was very sharp of you to find it,” she added with more interest.