“Oh, as to that,” Miss Drayton answered, “it will be only a pleasure to me.  She’s a dear, quaint little thing.”

“That’s good of you,” said Captain Wards, heartily.  “I was about to ask you—­you’re so kind and have made friends with her, you see—­to tell her that her uncle isn’t here.”

“Oh!”—­Miss Drayton shrank from that bearing of bad tidings.  “How can I?”

The captain looked uncomfortable.  “It is a good deal to ask,” he admitted.  “I suppose I—­or the stewardess—­”

“But no.  Poor little one!” Miss Drayton took herself in hand as she thought of the shy, lonely child.  “She must be told.  And, as you say, I’ve made friends with her, so it may come less hard from me.  Leave it to me, then, captain.”  And she went slowly back to Anne whose face clouded at seeing her new friend alone.

“I thought Uncle Carey would come back with you,” she said.  “Please—­where is he?”

“Anne, when was the last time that you saw Uncle Carey?” inquired Miss Drayton.

“A little while before the steamer left New York,” answered Anne.  “He said he was going to walk around.  And he was down there on the—­the platform below.”

“The dock?  On shore, you mean, and not on the steamer?”

“Yes, on the dock; that’s it.  And Roger—­Roger that stays in Uncle Carey’s office—­gave him a letter—­a yellow envelope.  Then some people got in the way.  And I haven’t seen him any more.”

“Let’s you and I sit down in this quiet corner, Anne,” said Miss Drayton, “and I’ll tell you what I think.  That yellow letter was a telegram.  It was about business, and it made your uncle go away in a hurry.  Such a great hurry that he didn’t have time to see you and tell you he was going.”

“Didn’t he come back?  Isn’t he on the steamer?” Anne asked anxiously.

Miss Drayton shook her head.  “I think not, dear.  They’ve looked everywhere.”

Tears were trickling down the child’s pale cheeks.  “And he left me—­all by myself?”

“No, dear; no, little one.”  Miss Drayton drew the little figure into her lap.  “He left you with good friends all around you.  We’ll take such care of you—­Captain Wards, that kind stewardess, and I. Isn’t it nice that you and I are next-door neighbors?  Bless your dear heart!  Of course it’s a disappointment.  You miss your uncle.  Snuggle right down in my arms and have your cry out.”

Anne winked back her tears.  “It hurts—­to cry,” she said rather unsteadily.  “But you see it’s—­it’s lonesome.  I wish Rosy Posy was here.”

“Is Rosy Posy one of your little friends at home?” asked Miss Drayton, wishing to divert Anne’s thoughts.

“Yes, Miss Drayton.  She’s my best little friend.  And so beautiful!  Such lovely long yellow curls.  She sleeps with me every night.  And I tell her all my secrets.  I’ve had her since I was a little girl.”

“Oh!  Rosy Posy’s your doll, is she?” questioned Miss Drayton.