“The boat’s going,” she sobbed; “we can’t get off now. We’ve got to go all the way to Baltimore, and it’s such a dreadful storm. Oh, it’s awful! It’s awful!” And poor little Gretel lifted up her voice and wailed.
Now, neither of the twins liked to see people cry. Mischievous and troublesome as they frequently were, their hearts were anything but hard, and at sight of their friend’s tears they both began to look rather ashamed of themselves.
“Do stop being such a silly,” said Geraldine, crossly, but she slipped an arm round Gretel’s waist as she spoke, and tried to draw her hands down from her face.
“I don’t see what you came for if you’re such a scare-cat,” remarked Jerry in his gruffest tones. “We came for an adventure, and you’re going to spoil it; I think you’re real mean.”
“I didn’t come on purpose,” protested Gretel between her sobs; “I only came to bring you home. I didn’t know the boat would go so soon. Oh, I wish I hadn’t come. I don’t want to be shipwrecked and drowned just now when Percy has come home, and everything is so lovely.”
Now, oddly enough, the prospect of being shipwrecked, which had struck the twins as so alluring only a few minutes earlier, had suddenly lost its charm, and both little faces began to look very grave.
“We’re not really going to be shipwrecked,” said Geraldine, uneasily; “we only said so for fun. We’re not a bit afraid, and we’re going to have a wonderful time. You’ll have a good time too if you’ll only stop crying and making such a fuss. We don’t mind your coming with us, do we, Jerry?”
“Of course we don’t,” said Jerry; “I wanted to tell her about it all the time, but you said we mustn’t.”
“That was because I was afraid she’d tell,” explained Geraldine; “but now you’re here, Gretel, and can’t go back, I don’t see why you won’t have a good time. The boat won’t stop again till we get to Baltimore to-morrow morning; we found that out before we started.”
But Gretel did not feel in the least like having a good time.