“What will you do?” questioned Rose, looking up into his face with eager, yet anxious eyes.

“Why do you ask?” he questioned.

“I wouldn’t think to ask if you were smiling,” said Rose, “but you look so stern—­oh, I don’t care if you scold him some, but ’tho he was mean, and naughty, don’t make him feel too bad.”

“You’ve a loving heart,” was the quick reply, “and like all the Athertons, you are generous.”

“Generous?” said Rose, in quick surprise, “I didn’t say give him anything.  I only said:  ‘Don’t make him feel too bad!’”

“My dear little girl, there are other ways of being generous beside bestowing gifts.  It is very generous of you, when Donald has treated you so cruelly, to ask mercy for him.  I’ll remember your tender pleading in his behalf, but Donald must be made to know, and fully understand that what he did was far worse than merely naughty, it was wicked!

“And now, for the time, we’ll talk no more about Donald.  You and Polly are safe and sound, the little boat is floating just behind us, all the sky is blue and cloudless.  We are bounding over the sparkling waves, without a thought or care.

“I am master of the Dolphin, and you and Polly are two lovely little sea fairies that I have invited aboard to keep me company.”

CHAPTER IX

PRINCESS POLLY RETURNS

The days spent at the shore sped as if on golden wings, and Uncle John declared that the sunlight seemed brighter while Rose remained under the red roof of “The Cliffs.”

He had given his little guests every pleasure, he had bought them a beautiful collection of shells, and a tiny ship for each to sail in the brook at Sherwood Hall.  Was there anything that he had not done for their happiness, their delight while with him at the shore?

Now the day for their departure had arrived, and his genial face looked strangely quiet, and he forgot to laugh and joke with them.

He watched Rose closely, and once, when she looked up at him, she thought his eyes looked grieved.

She laid her hand on his arm, and spoke the thought that was troubling her.

“You don’t want me to go?” she questioned.  “You wish I was not going back to Aunt Rose?”

Uncle John sat down in his great arm chair, and lifted Rose to his knee.

Looking into her brown eyes that were so like his own, he gazed for a moment, then he spoke, and his voice was very gentle.

“I wanted you to come to me for this little visit, but I did not dream how hard it would be to let you go.  I shall miss you, I think you know that, little Rose.”

“I do, oh, I do, and I don’t want to go.  I wouldn’t ever be ready to leave you Uncle John!” she cried.

Quickly two strong arms were around her, holding her fast, as he whispered: 

“Why, little girl?  Tell me why?”