“’Well, he’s twice lucky, for he wanted Rose for a visitor, and he’s found another child to bring with her!’”

She greeted the children cordially as they were introduced.

“Her name could be nothing but Atherton,” she said, “why, sir, she looks like you enough to be your own child.”

“She is my borrowed little girl,” Uncle John replied, “she’s mine while here.”

CHAPTER VIII

AT THE SHORE

Three days had passed, and Uncle John Atherton had filled them full of pleasure.

They had bathed in the surf, they had taken long tramps along the beach when the tide was out, they had sailed in his yacht, “The Dolphin,” they had been up at the great hotel, where a fine hop was enjoyed.

Was there any pleasure that he had not given them?

One morning he looked into the two bright little faces, as they sat at breakfast, and wondered what he would best choose for the day’s chief event.

“I believe I’ll ask you two little friends to choose your amusement for to-day.  What shall we do first?” he asked.

“‘The Dolphin!’ A sail on ‘The Dolphin!’” they cried without a moment’s hesitation.

“Then get on those sailor frocks that you wore yesterday, and your big sailor hats, and we’ll sail on the ‘briny deep,’ right after breakfast,” was the quick reply.

He was well pleased, for they had chosen just that which he so loved to do.

They hurriedly finished their breakfast and ran up to their room to put on the pretty sailor suits that he had so admired.

“Rose!” called Uncle John.

“I’m almost ready,” she answered.

“No hurry,” he replied, “only when you, and Polly are ready, run right down to the boat.  I’ve told Donald to take you for a row, and just as soon as I have finished some letters, I’ll go with you for a sail.”

“Oh, that will be fine!” cried Rose, “because while we are waiting for you we’ll be on the water.”

Uncle John returned to his letters, and soon Rose and Polly hurried down to the piazza and out onto the driveway.

It was a short run to the beach, where they found Donald, the little Scotch lad, waiting for them.

With a new knife he was whittling a bit of wood into the rude semblance of a boat.

He had intended to go fishing with another boy, and he was not pleased to be rowing two small girls, so much younger than himself; therefore he was sullen.  True, he was well paid for rowing them, and he was glad of the money, but, ungrateful little lad that he was, he most unwillingly waited for Rose and Polly.

“I’d ’nough rather be fishing,” he grumbled, but aloud he said: 

“Come on!”

They followed him, clambered into the boat, and soon were out on the water, singing a pretty boating song that Uncle John had taught them: