The two girls rushed along the narrow rough beach, wildly waving their handkerchiefs at the occupants of the boat.
“It’s Mr. Hepworth,” cried Patty, though the knowledge seemed to come to her intuitively, even before she recognised the man who held the stroke oar.
“And Winthrop is rowing, too,” said Bertha, recognising her brother, “and I think that’s Kenneth Harper, steering.”
By this time the boat was near enough to prove that these surmises were correct.
Relieved of her anxiety, mischievous Patty, in the reaction of the moment, assumed a saucy and indifferent air, and as the boat crunched its keel along the pebbly beach she called out, gaily, “How do you do, are you coming to call on us? We’re camping here for the summer.”
“You little rascals!” cried Winthrop Warner. “What do you mean by running away in this fashion, and upsetting the whole bazaar, and driving all your friends crazy with anxiety about you?”
“Our boat drifted away,” said Bertha, “and we couldn’t catch it, and we thought we’d have to stay here all night.”
“I didn’t think we would,” said Patty. “I felt sure somebody would come after us.”
“I don’t know why you thought so,” said Winthrop, “for nobody knew where you were.”
“I know that,” said Patty, smiling, “and yet I can’t tell you why, but I just felt sure that somebody would come in a boat, and carry us safely home.”
“Whom did you expect?” asked Kenneth, “me?”
Patty looked at Kenneth, and then at Mr. Hepworth, and then dropping her eyes demurely, she said:
“I didn’t know who would come, only I just knew somebody would.”
“Well, somebody did,” said Kenneth, as he stowed the great bunches of goldenrod in the bow of the boat.
“Yes, somebody did,” said Patty, softly, flashing a tiny smile at Mr. Hepworth, who said nothing, but he smiled a little, too, as he bent to his oars.
Chapter XXII.
The Bazaar of All Nations
“How did you know where we were?” said Bertha to her brother.
“We didn’t know,” said Winthrop, “but after we had hunted everywhere, and put a squad of policemen on your track, and got out the fire department, and sent for an ambulance, Hepworth, here, did a little detective work on his own account.”
“What did you do?” asked Patty.
“Why, nothing much,” said Mr. Hepworth, “I just tried to account for the various boats, and when I found one was missing, I thought you must have gone on the water somewhere. And so I got a field glass and looked all around, and though I thought I saw your white flags fluttering. I wasn’t sure, but I put over here on the chance.”
“Seems to me,” said Kenneth, “Hepworth is a good deal like that man in the story. A horse had strayed away and several people had tried to find it, without success. Presently, a stupid old countryman came up leading the horse. When asked how he found it he only drawled out, ‘Wal, I jest considered a spell. I thought ef I was a horse whar would I go? And I went there,—and he had!’ That’s a good deal the way Hepworth did.”
They all laughed at Kenneth’s funny story, but Patty said, “It was a sort of intuition, but all the same I object to having Mr. Hepworth compared to a stupid old countryman.”
“I don’t care what I’m compared to,” said Mr. Hepworth, gaily, “as long as we’ve found you two runaways, and if we can get you back in time for the opening of the fair.”
The time was very short indeed, and as soon as they landed at the dock, Patty and Bertha started for the house to don their costumes as quickly as possible.
The Fair, or “Bazaar of all Nations,” as it was called, was really arranged on an elaborate scale. It was held on the spacious grounds of Mr. Ashton, one of the wealthiest of the summer residents of Sandy Cove.
So many people had interested themselves in the charity, and so much enthusiasm had they put into their work, that when it was time to throw the gates open to the public, it was a festive and gorgeous scene indeed.
The idea of representing various nations had been picturesquely, if not always logically, carried out.
A Japanese tea-booth had been built with some regard to Japanese fashion, but with even more effort at comfort and attractive colour effects. The young ladies who attended it wore most becoming Japanese costumes, and with slanting pencilled eyebrows, and Japanese headdresses, they served tea in Oriental splendour.
In competition with them was an English dairy, where the rosy-cheeked maids in their neat cotton dresses and white aprons dispensed cheese cakes and Devonshire cream to admiring customers.
The representatives of other countries had even more elaborate results to show for their labours.
Italy’s booth was a beautiful pergola, which had been built for the occasion, but which Mr. Ashton intended to keep as a permanent decoration. Over the structure were beautiful vines and climbing plants, and inside was a gorgeous collection of blossoms of every sort. Italian girls in rich-coloured costumes and a profuse array of jewelry sold bouquets or growing plants, and were assisted in their enterprise by swarthy young men who wore the dress of Venetian gondoliers, or Italian nobles, with a fine disregard of rank or caste.
Spain boasted a vineyard. Mr. Hepworth had charge of this, and it truly did credit to his artistic ability. Built on the side of a hill, it was a clever imitation of a Spanish vineyard, and large grape vines had been uprooted and transplanted to complete the effect. To be sure, the bunches of grapes were of the hothouse variety, and were tied on the vines, but they sold well, as did also the other luscious fruits that were offered for sale in arbours at either end of the grapery. The young Spaniards of both sexes who attended to the wants of their customers were garbed exactly in accordance with Mr. Hepworth’s directions, and he himself had artistically heightened the colouring of their features and complexions.
Germany offered a restaurant where delicatessen foods and tempting savories were served by Fräuleins. Helen Barlow was one of the jolliest of these, and her plump prettiness and long flaxen braids of hair suited well the white kerchief and laced bodice of her adopted country.
The French girls, with true Parisian instinct, had a millinery booth. Here were sold lovely feminine bits of apparel, including collars, belts, laces and handkerchiefs, but principally hats. The hats were truly beautiful creations, and though made of simple materials, light straw, muslin, and even of paper, they were all dainty confections that any summer girl might be glad to wear. The little French ladies who exhibited these goods were voluble and dramatic, and in true French fashion, and with more or less true French language, they extolled the beauty of their wares.
In a Swiss châlet the peasants sold dolls and toys; in a Cuban construction, of which no one knew the exact title, some fierce-looking native men sold cigars, and in a strange kind of a hut which purported to be an Eskimo dwelling, ice cream could be bought.
The Stars and Stripes waved over a handsome up-to-date soda-water fountain, as the authorities had decided that ice-cream soda was the most typical American refreshment they could offer to their patrons. But an Indian encampment also claimed American protection, and a group of Western cowboys took pride in their ranch, and even more pride in their swaggering costumes.
Altogether the Bazaar was a great show, and as it was to last for three days, nobody expected to exhaust all its entertainments in one visit.
The Romany Rest was one of the