afternoon, and _can't_ get
through by half-past eight?" asked Edna.

"Oh, but we _must_ study hard," said well-trained Eunice, surprised.
"Papa hates dawdling."

"Does your mother help you with your lessons?"

"Not much. Sometimes she explains something we don't understand, but
papa says we should not need help. Well, then, generally we read for a
little while, or mamma reads to us, and if she does, I embroider
something. Sometimes we sew on Saturday mornings. What do you do?"

"Nothing, much," sighed Edna, dolefully. "It's so stupid to be an only
daughter. The boys are older, you see, and they have each other, and
they do study very hard in the winter. You see, I've no one to go out
with, after luncheon, unless I go with some of the girls. Of course
mamma often takes me with her, but lots of times she can't. And if she's
out when I come in, the house is so stupid. And evenings I just sit and
do fancy work, all by myself, if mamma is invited out to dinner, or
anything, and she is invited out such a lot. I wish you were my sister,
Eunice."

"Poor Edna! I wish you were _my_ sister, and could live with me all the
time. I don't think I _could_ leave Cricket and the rest to come and
live with you. Wouldn't it be nice if one of your brothers was only a
sister? I don't think boys mind nearly as much about being the only one.
And sisters are such a comfort. Let's read now. I peeked ahead, and
Jessica is an only child, too."

In the interest of their story the time slipped by. They munched some
cookies, but decided to wait till Cricket's return before eating a
regular luncheon. They always provided themselves with luncheons on the
slightest pretext.

"Isn't it time for Cricket to turn up?" said Eunice, at last, suddenly
interrupting herself. "She's been gone perfect ages. I really believe
her cannibals have eaten her up."

"If they have," replied Edna, decidedly, "they would soon repent it.
Nobody could digest her, for she would fly around so. I believe even the
_pieces_ of her would jump up and down in their stomachs."

"I thought she would just row around the island, and then come back and
hail us, at all events," said Eunice, laying down her book and standing
up to give the call. The "wah-whoo-wah!" rang across the water, but
brought no answering cry. They gave it again and again, with no better
success.

"What geese we were to let that child go away with the boat!" exclaimed
Edna, vexedly. "We should have known