Part 21 (2/2)

”Oh! I am surprised at you being so nervous, dear,” replied the mother, kissing Freda rea.s.suringly. ”I never felt less nervous. In fact, I think now things will soon be righted. Good-bye, dear. And have a good time with your friends.”

Freda watched the little woman step lightly away over the white path.

Then, with a sigh, she turned back to the bungalow.

”Freda! Freda!” called Bess. ”You have not eaten yet, and I'm to do the dishes. Hurry this minute and just fill up! I must be finished in time for a nap, for I am nearly dead.”

Freda did eat, though somehow she felt unusually depressed. Even Cora's encouraging words, given into Freda's ear when no one else was at hand, did not seem to cheer her.

”Just come down to the bay and go out with me,” urged Cora. ”I want to try the boat with the new control, and I don't want to go out alone!”

”Of course I will go with you,” a.s.sented Freda. ”I have only to change my blouse.”

The motor trip was delightful. The _Chelton_ seemed to have missed the guiding hand of its fair owner, for while the new piece of mechanism was being put in Cora had not been using the boat.

”How different from the one we rode in this morning,” Freda remarked.

”I always feel as if something were going to explode when I sit near a noise such as that old engine made. I wonder that a big house like the Laurel can keep such a tub.”

”Guests are always glad to get on the water,” answered Cora, ”and I suppose they are not particular as long as they do not have to pay extra for the sail. Most of the hotels down here hire out their launches, I believe.”

They headed straight for the island, and then ran around it to come back on the east sh.o.r.e. In many of the pa.s.sing boats were young friends of Cora, and all sorts of messages were shouted back and forth.

”I guess I had better go in early,” Cora remarked, ”as we really have not decided on this evening's plans. Some want the hop and others want the sail.”

”And I have a lot to do, too,” Freda said. ”Mother and I have to take so much time from what we would like to do for you girls.”

Cora protested against this, of course, declaring that the girls never had such help before, and regretting that Freda should take the matter so seriously.

”I cannot get over the attempt to rob Denny,” Cora went on, as they neared the bungalow. ”I am glad they chose a time when he was not around, for he would certainly fight. He thinks he has the same strength he enjoyed years ago, and I hate to think what might have happened had he met those fellows.”

”Wasn't it awful?” commented Freda. ”And to think that it must have been on our account, for I am convinced that those men were searching for papers they believe Denny has.”

”No doubt about it,” said Cora. ”But he has none; has he?”

”He has never mentioned such a thing, and with us worrying as we are, I am sure that if he had any of our papers he would show them to mother. I know my grandfather trusted him more than he even trusted my father, his own son; but that is easy to understand, for Denny had settled for life here, near the property, while father was likely to go to any part of the world, had he lived. He always wanted to travel.”

”This is a splendid afternoon to write letters,” Cora remarked, ”and I owe a very long one to mother. That, at least, I will get off on the last mail.”

”I have some to write, too,” Freda rejoined. ”I had that very task in mind. I have to write to those 'in-laws' I interviewed last week. They will think I am very ungrateful not to have written since my return.

So long,” she called out cheerily. ”I hope when mother comes back we will all have cause to rejoice. That friend of father's is a very good lawyer.”

”But he may not be able to say much until he has had a chance to look into the case,” said prudent Cora. ”We must not expect results so soon.”

”Oh, I do,” persisted Freda. ”I know when he hears all that mother has to tell him he will be able to say something quite definite.”

So the girls parted, Cora to go to her letter writing, and Freda to hers. It seemed the entire household at the Mote was very busy that afternoon, some resting for the evening, others arranging the fussy trifles so important to young girls.

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