“We’re going down to the river to sail my ship, Mother,” said Geoffrey. “I’ll look after Rosie and see that she comes to no harm.”

 

“My dear boy, I couldn’t think of letting you go by yourselves,” said Mother. “Father will be home to-morrow, and then he will take you,” she added, as she saw the children’s eager faces begin to cloud over. Then she kissed them both, got into the carriage, and drove away.

 

“It’s a jolly shame!” said Geoffrey crossly. “As if we should come to any harm! Why, I’m as well able to take care of you as Father. Of course I shouldn’t let you fall in.”

 

“Well, it’s no use,” sighed Rosie; “we can’t go, so we may as well think of something else to do.”

 

A rebellious¹ frown gathered on Geoffrey’s face. “I’m going to the river,” he said; “I shall only stay a few minutes to see how the 'Dancing Polly’ sails. Mother will never know!”

 

Rosie hesitated a minute, but when she saw Geoffrey running down the drive without her, it was too much, and off she went after him.

 

For a whole hour the children spent a most delightful² time sailing the “Dancing Polly,” but alas³! the crew, which consisted of a wooden doll, fell overboard, and in stretching over to rescue it Rosie lost her balance and toppled into the river.

 

Geoffrey shrieked⁴ for help. “Rosie’s drowning! Rosie’s drowning!” he cried, and in a moment someone came dashing down the bank, there was a plunge⁵, a moment of dreadful suspense⁶, and then Rosie was lying on the grass with Father

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