"what a time you have been done!" exclaimed jennie when edna appeared. "how did you happen to go to the bungalow? come in and tell us all about it. mother, here's edna," she sang out.

"come in to the fire," said mrs. ramsey from the door of the living-room. "these sea-turns chill one to the marrow. was that rudolph who brought you over? that was very nice of him. i was just about to tell mack he'd better go for you."

edna entered the house and stood before the fire. dorothy who was established near at hand, looked up from the book she was reading. "hallo, edna," she said, and then returned to her book.

"how did you happen to go to the bungalow?" jennie repeated her question, coming over to where edna stood.

"it was the fog," edna told her, and then she went on to give an account of her adventures. she had not proceeded very far before down went dorothy's book, and she was as interested a listener as jennie and her mother.

"oh, edna," she said, when the tale was ended, "how dreadful it all was, and here we were half 99mad with you and not knowing anything about what was happening. suppose, just suppose, that the tide had come up and, oh dear, oh dear, edna i am so sorry we were hateful to you this morning."

"but you were not hateful," edna protested, "and i don't suppose i ought to have gone off with louis, but you see—"

"yes, we do see," jennie interrupted her, "and nobody was to blame but louis. wasn't he the one, mother?"

"i am afraid so," responded mrs. ramsey, "though my dear, i think you should have remembered that both edna and louis were your guests and that the proper thing to do was to propose some play in which you could all join. little boys are not expected to play with dolls, you know."

jennie hung her head, but edna gave mrs. ramsey a grateful look, for what she said was very true. but seeing that jennie looked quite downcast edna spoke up cheerfully. "well, it is all over now, and i did have a very nice time at the bungalow. i had lunch out of the refrigerator, and miss eloise told me a lovely story. no, she didn't either, she didn't but half tell it for louis came before it was done. oh, jennie, i wore miss eloise's shoes and stockings while mine were getting dry, and they were only a little bit too big for me. i wore her blue kimono, too."

"i'm awfully glad you had a good time," said jennie earnestly, "but if i had known what was 100going on i should have been very unhappy. we didn't have a very good time as it was, did we, dorothy?"

"no, we didn't," dorothy agreed. "we missed you, edna, and we were out of sorts all the time. please stay with us next time."

"i think edna will do that," said mrs. ramsey gently, "for i think we must make a rule that no one of you is to go anywhere that you cannot all go, and then you will all be safer."

edna felt that this was a very good rule, and was sure that mrs. ramsey had made it for her protection, since now she could always say to louis, "no, i can't go unless the others do." so she looked up in mrs. ramsey's face and said, "i like that rule."

mrs. ramsey smiled down at her. "i am glad you do."

however, so far as louis went, there was little need of rules, for he kept away several days, having found a playmate in the person of a boy of about his own age who had come to the hotel to spend a few weeks. "the boy's father had a boat, a sail boat," louis informed the girls when he saw them, and louis was invited to go out every day in it, so any other amusement which they could offer paled before this.

at the end of the week mr. ramsey came up for a longer stay than before, and who should appear in the harbor about the same time but edna's big boy cousin, ben barker. everybody liked ben, for he was an entirely different sort of somebody from louis. he had come up with some of his college friends on a yacht, but was frequently ashore.

"i thought no one less than the king of spain had arrived," declared mr. ramsey when he beheld the tumultuous welcome given ben by the three little girls.

"he is much nicer than the king of spain," jennie told him.

"and this from my own daughter whose father has just arrived," said mr. ramsey laughing. "you are certainly a popular young man, mr. barker."

"oh, don't call him mr. barker; call him ben; we do," said jennie.

"that is as he likes, my dear."

"oh, everybody calls me ben," the young man told him.

"ben be it, then. and where are you staying, ben?"

"on the yacht with the boys, sir. we are cruising up the coast, and thought this would be a good place to anchor for a few days. we're not all boys, for the father of one of my chums, the fellow who owns the yacht, is with us, so is one of the college professors, and edna, you will never guess who is one of the party."

"who?"

"guess."

"celia, my sister celia."

"wrong. no ladies aboard."

"then, let me see—not papa?"

ben shook his head. "you're a little warmer."

"one of the boys; frank or charlie."

"no small fry."

"then, please tell, i can't possibly guess."

"your uncle justus."

"oh, ben, really?"

"yes, ma'am, thy servant speaketh truly."

"but where is he? and why didn't he come up with you?"

"because i wasn't sure how far it might be to this house, or how difficult it might be to get here."

"you don't mean that it is professor horner of whom you are speaking," said mr. ramsey.

"yes, sir, mr. justus horner."

"well, well, well. certainly we must have him over here. i will go speak to mrs. ramsey about it. how did you come over, ben?"

"i rowed over."

"then, if you will permit me to take an oar i will go back with you and call upon your goodly company. whose is the yacht, did you say?"

"clem mcallister's."

"son of davis mcallister? why, i know his father well, and his father is on board, too, i believe you said. a double reason for my going." he hurried off to speak to his wife while ben and the three little girls continued the conversation.

"what do you think we saw in the water last night?" ben asked them.

"oh what?" they asked in a breath. "was it a whale?" said jennie.

"no."

"not a man? oh, ben, was it, and had he fallen overboard?"

"no, it wasn't a man."

"then maybe it was a shark." this from dorothy. "i'd hate to see a shark; it would scare me to death."

"it wasn't a shark."

"then perhaps it was only a porpoise. they do come in quite near sometimes," jennie ventured this.

"no, it was nothing of a fishy nature."

"then we can't guess. tell us, ben," edna begged.

"all give it up?"

"yes, yes, yes."

"it was a—" he paused and looked impressively at each one, "a—i hardly know how to describe it, 104for it seemed to be amphibious, having once lived on land, and yet i doubt if it will live there ever again."

"do you mean it will never be on land again?" dorothy asked.

"i didn't say that. i said i doubted its ever living on land. i really don't see how it could, though of course it might possibly be there. this is a case when there is a difference between being and living."

"what was it doing when you saw it?" asked jennie.

"it was headed for the harbor, i should say."

"then it might have been a ship or a boat." jennie began to think she was getting some light.

"you are a very clever child, miss ramsey, but your intuitions fail you upon this occasion."

"then we give it up. we did give it up, ben, you know, and then you started us guessing again. what was it?"

"it was about five feet long, i should judge," ben went on thoughtfully, and as if he had no idea of their having stopped guessing. "its body was reared some distance above the water, but it was making its way very successfully, i thought."

"it was a dog!" cried edna triumphantly.

"of course it was," echoed the others. ben heaved a long sigh. "how mistaken persons can be when they are sure they are right. i admit that if i were writing about this object you might think i was writing about a dog, but i wouldn't be because it was not a dog."

"then it was a horse or some kind of animal." dorothy was very sure of this.

ben slowly shook his head. "on the wrong track, my dear dorothy."

"but you said it had lived on land, though you doubted if it ever would do so again."

"yes, verily, so said i."

"then we won't guess any more, will we girls? we gave it up and it has to stay given up."

"do you really want to know?"

"oh, we're not particular," replied dorothy, with a little toss of her head.

"oh, well, then," said ben, "i won't bother myself to tell you." he picked up the morning paper as if the last word had been said on the subject.

"ben barker, you are just the worst tease," said edna, tousling his hair. "you've just got to tell us after rousing our curiosity."

"oh, i am willing to tell you if you really want to know, but i thought you didn't. it was a large piece of driftwood."

"oh, you mean, mean thing!" edna began to pommel him with her fist and the others joined in.

"see here," cried ben, "three against one isn't fair, is it, mr. ramsey?" he appealed to that gentleman who just then came in.

mr. ramsey laughed. "i see it is high time to come to your rescue. are you ready? if so, i am at your service."

ben shook himself free of the little girls, picked them up one after another and tossed them in a heap among the cushions of the divan, then strode off in mr. ramsey's wake.

the girls, laughing and squealing, crawled out from the cushions to run after the departing figures, but these had already gone too far to be overtaken and they returned to watch them row off.

in about an hour they were back again, bringing a third person. it was edna who first caught sight of the approaching boat. "i see the boat coming," she sang out, "and there are three persons in it. oh, girls, i know who is coming; it is uncle justus. i know him by his whiskers and his eyebrows, though he isn't wearing a hat, but a funny cap. do come and see."

"let's go down to the landing and meet them," proposed jennie.

this was at once agreed upon and the three little girls went flying across the sands, so as to be on hand when the boat should come up. it seemed very queer to see uncle justus in yachting cap and flannels when he had always appeared in most severe dress, and never on any occasion wore such a 107frivolous thing as a cap. he appeared to have thrown off some of his dignity, too, for he stepped ashore with much agility and actually ran up the long board landing to meet edna.

"well, well, well, little girl," he cried, "isn't this a great meeting?"

"it is just fine," returned edna. "i am mighty glad to see you, uncle justus. are you glad to see me?"

"not a doubt of it. did you ever expect to see your old uncle sporting around with a lot of college boys? i am continually surprising myself by saying or doing something i had forgotten, and which belongs properly to youth. they are a great set, those college boys."

by this time jennie and dorothy had come up and were given hearty greetings. professor horner in the character of a yachtman was rather a different person from the grave and severe schoolmaster whose school they attended. as for edna, she was so divided between her desire to be with her favorite cousin ben and with uncle justus, of whom she was very fond, that she swung between her two desires like a pendulum till ben caught her and pretended he was going to throw her overboard because she would not walk with him up to the house. by the time this pretended squabble was over uncle justus was well ahead with mr. ramsey, so the three little girls attended ben like satellites.

"you're going to stay to dinner, mr. horner said so," jennie told ben in a satisfied voice.

"and do you know what we are going to do to-morrow?"

"no. what are you going to do?"

"we are going to have our breakfast on the yacht." ben gave this information as if it were a great piece of news.

"but i thought you always did that."

"so we do."

jennie looked puzzled, but edna laughed. it was so like cousin ben to do that way. "it is so nice to have you here," said edna, fondling the hand that held hers. she and the others had settled it that as ben was her own cousin she had prior claim to his right hand and the other two hung on his left arm, getting in one another's way a great deal in an effort to establish an equal right.

ben's presence at the lunch table kept the little girls in a state of giggles, which was aggravated by the inquiring look uncle justus would give them over his spectacles once in a while, as if he would say, why all this merriment when there is no apparent cause?

it was at the lunch table that mr. ramsey proposed a sailing party for the next afternoon. "i have been promising these young people for some time that i would take them out," he said. "old cap'n si has a good boat, and mrs. ramsey has promised we shall have a supper to take with us. gosling island is a pretty place, and i think you will all enjoy the sail. what do you say, mr. horner? will you and ben go with us?"

"i cannot speak for my young friend," replied mr. horner, "but for myself, i should be delighted to go, especially as you and your good lady are to be my shipmates."

at the words "good lady," ben opened his eyes very wide at edna and she collapsed into a fresh attack of giggles while ben turned gravely to mr. ramsey to say, "and i shall be delighted, too, mr. ramsey. i think it will give the boys on the yacht a treat if i spare them my presence for one afternoon."

"now, benjamin, you are entirely too modest," said mr. horner. "he is quite the life of the party, mr. ramsey, i assure you. they will not miss an old fogy like me, but young blood like ben's gives a great infusion of spirits."

the little girls stole a glance at ben. he had meekly folded his hands and was looking down with such an expression of humility that not only the little girls but mrs. ramsey had to laugh. truly it was anything but a solemn meal.

the next day dawned bright and fair to the delight of three rather anxious little girls who were fearful lest gray skies would put a stop to any plans for the sailing party. but alas, as the day wore on it became more and more doubtful whether 110one of the three little maids would be able to go, for edna, who waked with a little headache, became worse and worse, and by lunch time found it would be impossible for her to eat anything, and could be comfortable only when lying down. she was so disappointed and tried to persuade herself that the feeling of dizziness would pass away, and that she would be better by the time they were ready to start.

however, it was mrs. ramsey who finally decided that she must not think of going. "dearie," she said, "i am much afraid you would be worse for going. it isn't everyone who can go in a sailing vessel without being seasick, and i am a little doubtful for dorothy and miss eloise, but in your present condition i am very sure it would be anything but a pleasure to you."

jennie who stood by listening with much concern, spoke up. "couldn't we put it off, mother?"

"i think we can promise to go another time, but not with the same party, for the yacht will continue her cruise up the coast, so ben tells me, and will not be here after to-morrow morning. your father wants particularly to have mr. horner go with us, you see—"

"then i'm not going," said jennie decidedly.

edna raised herself on her elbow. "indeed you must," she said. "i think it is lovely of you, jennie, to want to stay, but you see, i couldn't play or do anything but lie still, and i should be very unhappy 111if you were to stay on my account. please say she must go, mrs. ramsey. if she stays, then dorothy will think she must and it will spoil it for so many that it wouldn't do at all."

"i think jennie ought to go," said mrs. ramsey, after a moment's thought, "for we have asked mrs. duncan and her little girl, but i shall stay to take care of you."

edna raised her head again. "oh, but mrs. ramsey, that will be just as bad. i am not so ill as that, indeed i am not. it is only that i feel dizzy when i raise my head. if i keep very quiet i may be well by the time you can get back. besides, if it isn't polite for jennie to stay home because you have invited grace duncan, then it wouldn't be polite for you because you have invited mrs. duncan."

mrs. ramsey smiled at this laying down of the law, but continued, "i am sure our friends will understand why i am not going when it is explained to them."

"oh, but," edna went on, "i shall be much sicker if you stay, because i shall feel as if it were all on my account. it makes me sicker just to think of it. please, dear mrs. ramsey, go. emma can take care of me and i shall not want anything, but just to keep still."

she looked so imploring and was really so distressed that mrs. ramsey wavered. "i am sure it is not a very serious illness," she admitted, "and 112emma is really a very good nurse. i could leave word with her to telephone for the doctor if you were to grow worse, i suppose."

"oh, yes, that will be all right, and i shall not be any worse unless you stay at home."

"in that case," returned mrs. ramsey smiling, "it would seem the wisest plan for me to go. i will tell emma to keep within hearing. she can take her mending in the next room and sit there, or would you rather lie on the divan in the living-room?"

"i'll stay here for awhile, and if i get better i can go down there," edna decided.

so, in due course of time they all left her, with many protestations, and loving farewells. "if you can get to sleep," said mrs. ramsey, "i think you will wake up feeling better. emma can darken the room and it will be very quiet."

so off they went, and edna turned with a little sigh of regret and tried to compose herself to sleep. she closed her eyes and presently heard emma tip-toeing about the room, softly drawing down the shades. after all it was rather pleasant and restful to lie there undisturbed, to know that nothing was expected of her, and that she did not have to pretend to feel better than she really was. her head did not ache so badly when she kept perfectly still, and there was emma near at hand if she should want anything. she heard the gentle plash of the water on the beach, and once in a while the distant "putter, putter" of a motor-boat, but that was all. she wondered if ben would miss her. she was sure uncle justus would. they were all getting in the boat now, and now they were sailing off, sailing off, and presently edna herself sailed off, too, into the sea of dreams.