“Oh, now, now!” they cried.

He laughed, and stooping, lifted little Rose so that he could look straight into her eyes, eyes as brown as his own.

“Little Rose Atherton,” he said softly, “you are like your father, and your mother, too, but most of all you are every inch an Atherton.”

He kissed her gently and set her down, but the look in his eyes and the kiss had won her little heart, and she clung to his hand.

Aunt Rose and Aunt Lois had been all that was kind, but Uncle John!  Ah, he would love her!

She had always wanted someone to love her.

“Do be careful, John,” said Aunt Lois “I can’t seem to think those automobiles are as safe as my carriage is.”

“I’ll take the best of care of my precious little passengers,” he said, “and Lois!” speaking loudly, that she might hear, “I remember a ride that I took with you years ago.  The horse shied at a piece of old paper in the road, at a girl with a red parasol, and a half dozen other equally harmless things.  I’ll promise you the automobile won’t act like that!  If it does, I’ll sell it and get another!”

At last they were off.  They had waved their hands to Aunt Lois, and now, side by side, they were spinning over the road, Uncle John feeling very proud of his lovely little guests.

They laughed and chattered all the way, and Uncle John thought he never had heard merrier music.

It was when they had left the country town behind and caught the first glimpse of the sea that their cries of delight charmed him.

“See the sails!  The sails way out there against the sky!” cried Rose.

“And the big gulls!” cried Polly.  “See them fly way, way up high, and then down, down again to the waves.”

It had been a long, sunny road, with seldom a turn, and only occasionally a glimpse of the sea, but suddenly the road curved, winding around behind a high bluff, and there, blue and glistening in the sunlight, lay the sea, the big blue sea!

“We’re here at the shore!” cried Rose, “and oh, I’ve never been there before.  I didn’t know it was so lovely!”

“You’re a real little sailor’s lass, or rather, a sea-captain’s lass, if you love the sea so well!” said Uncle John, well pleased with her excitement and delight.

He stopped that they might watch the incoming tide for a few moments, then off over the road they sped.

“Here we are!” he cried, when after a half hour’s more ride, they turned in at the driveway of a fine shore villa.

“Welcome to ’The Cliffs’!” said Uncle John.

He lifted them down, and taking each by the hand, turned toward the broad piazza.

“Ah, Mrs. Wilton, you were looking for us!” he said, greeting the housekeeper, a stout, cheery looking woman, who took the suit cases and smiled, as if caring for two small girls were the one thing that delighted her.

“Yes, I was watching for you, and when you drove up to the house I said to myself: