The Cricket Part 5

"So am I," she answered.

He looked at her and laughed. She looked like a Kewpie in her abbreviated bathing suit, with water wings fastened to her back. She walked rapidly into the sea, and, perforce, he followed. Miss Wilder shouted orders in vain from the sh.o.r.e. The tide was running in, and nearly high, so she was over her depth in a second, but she paddled out toward the distant raft, her head well out of the water, thanks to her wings. Much amused, Wally swam beside her into deep water.

"It was a great surprise to me, the day I found I could swim," she said.

"It must have been," he laughed.

"It was a pleasant day," she added.

"It is deep here," he said, to test her.

"I know it. Don't you put your hands on me, Wally. I don't want to be touched," she admonished him.

"Aren't you afraid?"

"No."

In due time they reached the raft. The youngster was winded, but undaunted. Bryce watched her with real admiration. Here was a dare-devil courage he vastly respected. He was timid and cautious himself.

"Throw me off the raft, Wally; I like to splash," she ordered.

"You're crazy," he said.

"No. Mr. Page threw me off the club raft, when I asked him to."

"Better not let me catch him at it. You sit still and get your breath and then we'll start back."

He dived off the raft and instantly she followed him. He caught her by the arm, strangling and coughing.

"You little devil," he said; "you'll drown."

"No, I won't. Let go, Wally; I won't be helped."

He headed her for sh.o.r.e, by pretending to race her, and once on land he urged Miss Wilder to watch her every minute, lest she swim for the raft alone.

But this adventure had fixed Isabelle on her father's mind. He thought about her a good deal, and laughed at the thought. She certainly was a sport, and she was n.o.body's fool. He wondered if other children were like her, and began to watch them. He asked their fathers about them, but the fathers never knew. They always said: "I don't see much of the kids; too busy," or: "That's Mabel's job (or Kate's or Mary's)."

He could not seem to remember seeing much of his father when he was a boy, save on state occasions when his parent was called upon to administer extra stiff punishment. He wondered if the other mothers knew more about their youngsters than Max did about hers? But when he asked them at the club, or on the golf course, they looked surprised and said: "I don't know anything about them, Wally; the governess looks after them."

It evidently wasn't the thing, in their set, to bother about children.

So he did not get much help from his friends in the difficult situation in which Max had placed him. She stood by her determination to leave the child to him, with irritating completeness. She even refused to give advice or help.

Of course, he could leave well enough alone, let Miss Wilder blunder along with her somehow. That was evidently the way the rest of them did.

He had almost decided upon this course, when he met Isabelle, standing on the pony's bare back, making him run, while poor Miss Wilder panted behind, protesting at every step.

It brought him to a resolution. The kid ought to have a younger woman to look after her, one who could swim and ride and take some interest in her sports. If she was going to leap head first into every danger, she needed a girl to stand by, and leap in after her, if necessary.

It took him several days to get up his nerve to dismiss Miss Wilder, but in the end, she met him half way. She said she could not stand the strain, that she had aged ten years in the two months she had been in charge of his daughter.

"She is a very remarkable child, Mr. Bryce, and she needs very special treatment."

"I suppose that is it. I will give you a month's extra salary, Miss Wilder, so you may take a rest. I know you need it."

The next morning he bustled into Mrs. Bryce's room, where she was taking her breakfast in bed.

"Mercy, Wally, are you sick?" she inquired; "it's barely nine o'clock."

"I've got to go to town."

"Town, this hot day?"

"Yes. I fired old Wilder and I've got to get a new victim for our offspring. Where do you get 'em?"

"Poor Wally," laughed his wife. "I advertise, or go to teachers'

agencies, or any old way. Telephone in, and they'll send you something."

"No; I'm going to get a young one."

"And pretty, I suppose."

"Don't be an idiot."

He turned as the door opened and Isabelle came in. She was booted and hatted.

"Good morning, Max," she said, sweetly.

"Morning. Where are you going?"

"To town, with Wally."

"What?"

"Well, I thought I'd better take her. She has to live with 'em, you know, and she has ideas on the subject."

Mrs. Bryce laughed aloud.

"You two!" she exclaimed.

"Come on, Wally," urged Isabelle, taking her father by the hand.

"Which car are you using?" inquired Max.

"She prefers the train," he explained.

This brought another outburst of mirth.

"My word, Wally! You're becoming a wonderful parent!" exclaimed Mrs.

Bryce; and they fled before her laughter.