John Atherton loved the children, and they dearly loved him.

One would have thought that the grand old house of the Vandmere's would have been chosen for the wedding, but Iris was quite alone there, save for her servants.

Both parents had but recently pa.s.sed away, and the lonely girl felt that the home with its sad memories was not at all the place for the happy event.

"Let it be at Cliffmore," she had said, and at Cliffmore it was to be.

"Only think of it," Princess Polly said one morning, "Rose is to be maid of honor, and Sprite and I are to be bridesmaids. Rose is to wear pink, with pink roses, and we shall wear white with pink roses. Miss Iris will wear white, because brides always wear white. Mamma, why can't brides sometimes wear something else?"

Mrs. Sherwood laughed.

"This time the bride will wear 'something else.' Miss Vandmere's gown will be of the palest blue satin, and beautiful lace," she said.

"Oh, how lovely!" cried Princess Polly.

At last the great day arrived, just as the children felt that they could not wait much longer.

It was like a dream of Fairyland, for the great gardens at "The Cliffs" had never looked finer, the rooms were bowers of flowers and foliage, soft music floated through the halls, and then, Iris in shimmering blue satin, attended by her dainty little maids, came forward to the floral arch, where handsome Captain Atherton stood waiting.

After the ceremony, the guests moved forward to kiss the lovely bride, and Iris, bent to give her first kiss to her little maid of honor.

"You are _my_ little Rose, now," she whispered, and Rose, happy Rose, clasped her arms about her soft, white neck.

And quite as the weddings in the old fairy tales it was, for the banquet was like an old time feast, and dancing, in which the Captain and his bride took part, followed.

When, after a gay, brilliant evening, the happy pair said "good-bye,"

their friends gathered about them, wishing them a pleasant voyage on the _Dolphin_, a safe return, and all good fortune.

Never a thought of loneliness had little Rose. During Uncle John's absence, she was to be with her dear Princess Polly, and what could be better than that?

For a few more weeks they would be at the sh.o.r.e, and Rose would be at the Sherwood's cottage, at play all day with Princess Polly and Sprite.

Then she would leave Cliffmore with the Sherwoods, and go with them to Avondale, there to remain until, upon his return, Uncle John, and the lovely, new Aunt Iris, should come for her. Rose was delighted to stay with Princess Polly, and she looked forward to her home with Uncle John, now to be even pleasanter than before, because of the sweet, new relative, whom she already loved.

The day after the wedding, Gwen decided to go over to "The Cliffs" to learn if Rose were there, and if she were so lucky as to find her, to remain and play with her. It would be a fine way to spend the morning.

She had quarreled with Max.

She was always either vexed with him or just making up, and no one could ever guess which had happened, because Gwen looked quite as cheerful after a disagreement, as when the friendship had been renewed.

She hurried along the beach, rushing past a group of small girls whom she often played with, because she meant surely to find Rose before she might leave "The Cliffs" to go over to Princess Polly's house.

She knew that the walk would be a long one, yet it seemed farther than she thought.

The sun was hot, and the sand seemed burning under the thin soles of her dainty shoes.

"How long it takes me to get there!" she said impatiently. "I couldn't run all the way."

She reached the low gate a few minutes later, however, and opening it, swung it wide between the two stone posts, and ran up the path, laughing when the gate swung to with a clang of its iron latch.

Mrs. Wilton, the housekeeper, opened the door, believing that some important person had arrived, for the bell had rung as if the opening of the door were imperative.

She was not pleased to see the small girl standing there.

"No, Rose is not here," she said in answer to Gwen's question. "She is to stay with Polly while her Uncle John is away. She went over there this morning."

"Why this is 'this morning'," Gwen said, pertly.

"It is ten o'clock, and Rose went over to the Sherwood house at eight," the housekeeper said, at the same time stepping back, as if she intended to close the door.

She was free to close it as soon as she chose, for Gwen had turned, and without a word or a glance, raced down the path, out of the gateway and up the beach to join Rose and Polly whom she now saw standing and talking.

"h.e.l.lo!" she cried, as she drew nearer. "I've been over to 'The Cliffs' to find you, Rose, and then I came here. What you two talking about?"

"Trying to choose what to play," Rose said.

Both wished that Gwen had remained away, but they could not be rude, so she of course would join in the game, whatever it might be. It was a warm morning, and Princess Polly was just thinking that it would be fine to choose a shady spot, and sit there telling fairy tales, but Gwen's arrival made that impossible.

She never cared to listen while someone told a story. To be happy she must be the story teller, and as her stories were always wildly improbable, and always about her silly little self, they were never at all interesting.

For that matter, she was never willing to join in any game unless it was very exciting.

Several games were suggested by Rose and Polly, but to all Gwen shook her head, and refused to play either one of them.

One she thought too stupid, another she declared that she had never liked, and, yet another was "awfully dull" she said.

At last Rose lost patience.

"What _will_ you play?" she asked sharply, her cheeks flushing.

"Oh, I don't know," Gwen replied carelessly. "I guess I won't play at all, anyway not with you two. I'll run back and find Max Deland. He's good fun, and he'll surely be able to think of something I'll like to play. He most always does, and I like him because he is wide awake.

Good-bye!" and she was off like a flash down the beach.

CHAPTER VIII

AUNT ROSE CALLS

There had been many sunny days with blue skies, and never a cloud in sight, when one day, to the surprise of everyone, the sky appeared to be a solid ma.s.s of dark, leaden clouds, and the sea that for such a long time had been glistening and sparkling, now showed only a dark sullen surface, with here and there a whitecap to break its monotony.

Rose and Polly had decided to remain indoors, and all the afternoon they had been busy sorting the sh.e.l.ls that they had been collecting.

"I wish I had more of these," said Polly, pointing to a little heap of oddly shaped sh.e.l.ls, white in color, with here and there markings of soft brown.

"I wish so too," Rose said. "We've less of that kind than we have of any of the others. I wonder how it happened that we didn't get more of those?"