While Tom was talking Madge darted off across the sands. She never would get over her love of running, she felt sure, until she was old and rheumatic. The color came back to her cheeks and the laughter to her eyes.

Tom was close behind her. "Madge Morton, you didn't give me a fair start," he protested, "you rushed away before I was ready. I thought you always played fair?"

Madge dropped into a walk. "I do try to, Tom," she answered more earnestly than Tom had expected. His remark had been made only in fun.

"You believe in me, don't you, Tom?" she added pleadingly.

"Now and forever, Madge, through thick and thin," answered Tom steadily.

They had now come up nearer the crowd of people on the beach. Up on a grand stand a band was playing an Italian waltz, and an eager crowd had gathered, apparently to listen to the music.

But the two young people soon saw that on the hard sand a child was dancing. Tom stopped outside the circle of watchers, but Madge went forward into it. She had at once recognized little Tania! Eleanor had been left on the houseboat to take care of the child, but Eleanor was now nowhere to be seen, and her charge had wandered into mischief.

Tania was dancing in her most bewitching and wonderful fashion. Madge could not help feeling a little embarra.s.sed pride in her. The child was moving like a flower swayed by the wind. She poised first on one foot, then on the other, then flitted forward on both pointed toes, her thin, eager arms outstretched, curving and bending with the rhythm of the music. She wore her best white dress, the pride of her life, which Eleanor had lately made for her. On her head she had placed a wreath of wild flowers, which she must have woven for herself. They were like a fairy crown on her dark head. With the love of bright colors, which she must have inherited from some Italian ancestor, she had twisted a bright scarlet sash about her waist.

Again Madge saw that Tania was utterly unconscious of the audience about her. She looked neither to the right nor to the left, but straight upward to the turquoise-blue sky.

How different Tania's audience to-day from the crowd of people that had watched her on the street corner when Eleanor and Madge had first seen her! Yet these gay society folk were even more fascinated by the child's wonderful art. They could better appreciate her remarkable dancing.

Tania did not even see her beloved Madge, who was silently watching her.

Tania's usually pale cheeks glowed as scarlet as her sash. Unconsciously the little girl's movements were like those of a b.u.t.terfly, a-flutter with the joy of the sunshine and new life.

The music stopped suddenly and with it Tania's dance ceased as abruptly.

She stood poised for a single instant on one dainty foot, with her graceful arms still swaying above her flower-crowned head. Her audience watched her breathlessly, for the effect of the child's grace had been almost magical.

"Wasn't that a wonderful performance?" whispered Tom in Madge's ear. "The child is an artist! Where do you suppose she learned to dance like that?"

But Tania had come back to earth in a brief second. To Madge's mystification, Tania started about among the people who had been watching her performance with her small hands clasped together like a cup.

The child courtesied shyly to a fat old lady. Her gesture was unmistakable. The woman rummaged in her chain pocket-book and dropped a silver quarter into Tania's outstretched hands. The next onlooker was more generous. Tania's eyes shone as she felt the size and weight of a big silver dollar.

Few people in the Cape May crowd knew who Tania was, or whence she had come. They probably thought that the object of the dance had been to earn money.

For a few moments Madge had been paralyzed by Tania's peculiar actions.

She did not realize what they meant. In this lapse of time the rest of their party joined them.

It was the expression on Mrs. Curtis's face that made Madge appreciate what Tania was doing.

"What on earth is Tania about?" exclaimed Lillian in puzzled tones. She saw the child standing before a young man who was evidently teasing her and refusing her request for money.

"She has been dancing like a monkey with a hand organ," answered Philip Holt scornfully. "I am afraid Cape May people will hardly understand it.

It looks as though the young women on the 'Merry Maid' were in need of money." The young man laughed as though his last remark had been intended for a joke.

"None of that talk, Holt." Madge caught Tom's angry tone as she hurried forward to Tania. The little captain could have cried with mortification and embarra.s.sment. In the crowd of curious onlookers she caught sight of Mabel Farrar's and Roy Dennis's sneering faces.

"Tania!" she cried sharply. "What in the world are you doing? Stop taking that money at once!"

Tania glanced around and discovered Madge. Instead of looking ashamed of herself, the child's face grew radiant. "Madge," she cried, in a high voice that could be heard all about them, "it is all for you!"

Tania rushed forward with her outstretched hands overflowing with silver.

Madge could have sunk through the sands for shame. Mrs. Curtis's face flamed with anger and chagrin. She might have been able to explain to her friends that Tania was only a street child and knew no better than to dance for money; but how could she ever explain the remark to Madge? It looked as though Madge had been a party to Tania's dancing and begging.

Madge was overcome with embarra.s.sment and humiliation. She knew that she must, for the minute, appear like a beggar to the crowd of Cape May people. For just that instant she would have liked to repulse Tania, to have thrust the child and her money away from her before every one. But a glance at Tania's eager, happy face restrained her. She put her arm protectingly about the little girl, hiding her in the shelter of her body. "I don't want the money, Tania," she whispered. "It wasn't right for you to have taken it from these people."

"Don't you want it?" faltered Tania. "I thought you said last night that you and Eleanor were very poor, and that you needed some money very much.

All the time I was in bed last night I thought of what your Fairy G.o.dmother could do to help you. I know how to do but one thing--to dance as my mother taught me. How can it be wrong to take the money from people? I have often done it in New York. They only gave it to me because they liked my dancing." Madge could feel Tania's hot tears on her hands.

She clasped Tania closer. "It isn't exactly wrong, Tania; I was mistaken.

It was just different. I will have to explain it to you afterward. Now we must give the money back to the people again."

Holding tight to Tania's hand, Madge walked among the group of strangers, explaining Tania's actions as best she could without hurting the little girl's feelings. It was one of the hardest things that the proud little captain had ever been called upon to do. But a part of the crowd had scattered. It was not possible to find them all and return their silver.

Tania was too puzzled and heart-broken to continue her errand long. She did not understand why Madge had refused to take her gift, which she thought she had fairly earned. Finally she could hold back her sobs no longer. Dropping her few remaining nickels and dimes on the sand she broke away from Madge's clasp and ran like a little wild creature away from everyone.

Madge stopped for just a second among her friends before following Tania.

"You see, Madge," remarked Mrs. Curtis coldly, "Tania is quite impossible. I knew the child would get you into difficulties, and it is just as I feared. She must be sent away at once."

But Madge shook her head with a decision that was unmistakable.

"No," she answered quietly, "Tania shall not be sent away. None of you understand, and I can't explain it to you now, but Tania thought she was doing something for Nellie and me. She was foolish, of course, and I will see that she never does it again."

With her head held high, Madge hurried away in pursuit of her Fairy G.o.dmother.

CHAPTER XII

"THE ANCHORAGE"

Madge was alone in the "Water Witch," which had been mended and was as good as new. She had just come from an interview with Mrs. Curtis, in which she had tried to make her friend understand the reason for Tania's behavior of the day before. Mrs. Curtis, however, would not take the little captain's view of the matter. She dwelt on the fact that Tania had slipped away from the houseboat without letting Eleanor know of it, and that she was a naughty and disobedient child.

Madge also believed that Mrs. Curtis no longer loved her so dearly as in the early days of their acquaintance. The young girl was sure that some influence was being brought to bear to prejudice her friend against her.

But what could she do? Philip Holt was trying to destroy the affection Mrs. Curtis felt for Madge in order to ingratiate himself. It looked as though he were going to succeed. Madge was too proud to ask questions or to accuse Philip Holt with deliberately trying to influence her friend against her. Although she was only a young girl, she realized that love does not amount to very much in this world unless it has faith and sympathy behind it. So long as she had done nothing she knew to be wrong, and for which she should make an apology, she could only wait to see if Mrs. Curtis's affection would be restored to her or cease altogether.

As usual, when she was troubled, the impulse came to her to be alone on the water. She had explained to Miss Jenny Ann that she might be gone for several hours, so there was no immediate reason why she should return to the houseboat. The other girls were yachting with some Cape May friends.

Madge rowed her boat up the bay toward the home of the old sailor. She was not far from the very place where Captain Jules had rescued Tania and her a short while before. She thought of the strange-looking beam sticking up out of the sandy bottom of the bay on which Tania's dress had caught. It had certainly looked like the broken mast of an old ship. She determined to ask Captain Jules if any wrecks had recently occurred near that part of the bay, and concluded that she would row up to the sailor's house for the express purpose of asking him this question. Of course, this was only an excuse. She was deeply anxious to call on the old sailor again and, if possible, persuade him to keep his promise to her to show her his diving suit, and to tell her more of his strange experiences at the bottom of the sea.

Captain Jules was sitting in his favorite place on the big rock just by the water in front of his house. He was mending the sail of his fishing boat.

Madge's boat came round a slight curve in the bay, dancing toward him.

This time Captain Jules spied his guest and saluted her as he would have greeted a superior officer.

The little captain blushed prettily as she returned his salute in her best naval fashion.

The old captain looked hurriedly toward his small house. There was no sight or sound of any one about. He seemed uncomfortable for a moment, then his face cleared. His deep blue eyes gleamed and his mouth set squarely. "Coming ash.o.r.e to make me a call, Miss Madge?" he asked invitingly.