full of sand but Cissy was a past mistress in the art of smoothing over life’s tiny troubles and very quickly not one speck of sand was to be seen on his smart little suit. Still the blue eyes were glistening with hot tears that would well up so she kissed away the hurtness and shook her hand at Master Jacky the culprit and said if she was near him she wouldn’t be far from him, her eyes dancing in admonition.
―Nasty bold Jacky! she cried.
She put an arm round the little mariner and coaxed winningly:
―What’s your name? Butter and cream?
―Tell us who is your sweetheart, spoke Edy Boardman. Is Cissy your sweetheart?
―Nao, tearful Tommy said.
―Is Edy Boardman your sweetheart? Cissy queried.
―Nao, Tommy said.
―I know, Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an arch glance from her shortsighted eyes. I know who is Tommy’s sweetheart, Gerty is Tommy’s sweetheart.
―Nao, Tommy said on the verge of tears.
Cissy’s quick motherwit guessed what was amiss and she whispered to Edy Boardman to take him there behind the pushcar where the gentlemen couldn’t see and to mind he didn’t wet his new tan shoes.
But who was Gerty?
Gerty MacDowell who was seated near her companions, lost in thought, gazing far away into the distance was in very truth as fair a specimen of