“Well-I suppose the other children who play on the beach share their sweets and ices with you sometimes, don’t they?” asked Julian.
“I don’t let them,” said George. “If I can never give them any myself it’s not fair to take them. So I say no.”
The tinkle of an ice-cream man’s bell was heard in the distance. Julian felt in his pocket. He jumped up and rushed off, jingling his money. In a few moments he was back again, carrying four fat chocolate ice-cream bars. He gave one to Dick, and one to Anne, and then held out one to George. She looked at it longingly, but shook her head.
“No, thanks,” she said. “You know what I just said. I haven’t any money to buy them, so I can’t share mine with you, and I can’t take any from you. It’s mean to take from people if you can’t give even a little back.”
“You can take from us,” said Julian, trying to put the ice into George’s brown hand. “We’re your cousins.”
“No, thanks,” said George again. “Though I do think it’s nice of you.”
She looked at Julian out of her blue eyes and the boy frowned as he tried to think of a way to make the obstinate little girl take the ice. Then he smiled.
“Listen,” he said, “you’ve got something we badly want to share-in fact you’ve got a lot of things we’d like to share, if only you’d let us. You share those with us, and let us share things like ices with you. See?”
“What things have I got that you want to share?” asked George, in surprise.
“You’ve got a dog,” said Julian, patting the big brown mongrel. “We’d love to share him with you, he’s such a darling. And you’ve got a lovely island. We’d be simply thrilled if you’d share it sometimes. And you’ve got a wreck. We’d like to look at it and share it too. Ices and sweets aren’t so good as those things-but it would be nice to make a bargain and share with each other.”
George looked at the brown eyes that gazed steadily into hers. She couldn’t help liking Julian. It wasn’t her nature to share anything. She had always been an only child, a lonely, rather misunderstood little girl, fierce and hot-tempered. She had never had any friends of her own. Timothy looked up at Julian and saw that he was offering something nice and chocolately to George. He jumped up and licked the boy with his friendly tongue.
“There you are, you see-Tim wants to be shared,” said Julian, with a laugh. “It would be nice for him to have three new friends.”
“Yes-it would,” said George, giving in suddenly, and taking the chocolate bar. “Thank you, Julian. I will share with you. But promise you’ll never tell anyone at home that I’m still keeping Timothy?”
“Of course we’ll promise,” said Julian. “But I can’t imagine that your father or mother would mind, so long as Tim doesn’t live in their house. How’s the ice? Is it nice?”
“Ooooh-the loveliest one I’ve ever tasted!” said George nibbling at it. “It’s so cold. I haven’t had one this year. It’s simply DELICIOUS!”
Timothy tried to nibble it too. George gave him a few crumbs at the end. Then she turned and smiled at the three children.
“You’re nice,” she said. “I’m glad you’ve come after all. Let’s take a boat out this afternoon and row round the island to have a look at the wreck, shall we?”
“Rather!” said all three at once-and even Timothy wagged his tail as if he understood!
Chapter Four
AN EXCITING AFTERNOON
They all had a bathe that morning, and the boys found that George was a much better swimmer than they were. She was very strong and very fast, and she could swim under water, too, holding her breath for ages.
“You’re jolly good,” said Julian, admiringly. “It’s a pity Anne isn’t a bit better. Anne, you’ll have to practise your swimming strokes hard, or you’ll never be able to swim out as far as we do.”
They were all very hungry at lunch time. They went back up the cliff-path, hoping there would be lots to eat-and there was! Cold meat and salad, plum-pie and custard, and cheese afterwards. How the children tucked in!
“What are you going to do this afternoon?” asked George’s mother.
“George is going to take us out in a boat to see the wreck on the other side of the island,” said Anne. Her aunt looked most surprised.
“George is going to take you!” she said. “Why George-what’s come over you? You’ve never taken a single person before, though I’ve asked you to dozens of times!”
George said nothing, but went on eating her plum-pie. She hadn’t said a word all through the meal. Her father had not appeared at the table, much to the children’s relief.
“Well, George, I must say I’m pleased that you want to try and do what your father said,” began her mother again. But George shook her head.
“I’m not doing it because I’ve got to,” she said. “I’m doing it because I want to. I wouldn’t have taken anyone to see my wreck, not even the Queen of England, if I didn’t like them.”
Her mother laughed. “Well, it’s good news that you like your cousins,” she said. “I hope they like you!”
“Oh yes!” said Anne, eagerly, anxious to stick up for her strange cousin. “We do like George, and we like Ti …”
She was just about to say that they liked Timothy too, when she got such a kick on her ankle that she cried out in pain and the tears came into her eyes. George glared at her.
“George? Why did you kick Anne like that when she was saying nice things about you?” cried her mother. “Leave the table at once. I won’t have such behaviour.”
George left the table without a word. She went out into the garden. She had just taken a piece of bread and cut herself some cheese. It was all left on her plate. The other three stared at it in distress. Anne was upset. How could she have been so silly as to forget she mustn’t mention Tim?
“Oh, please call George back!” she said. “She didn’t mean to kick me. It was an accident.”
But her aunt was very angry with George. “Finish your meal,” she said to the others. “I expect George will go into the sulks now. Dear, dear, she is such a difficult child!”
The others didn’t mind about George going into the sulks. What they did mind was that George might refuse to take them to see the wreck now!
They finished the meal in silence. Their aunt went to see if Uncle Quentin wanted any more pie. He was having his meal in the study by himself. As soon as she had gone out of the room, Anne picked up the bread and cheese from George’s plate and went out into the garden.
The boys didn’t scold her. They knew that Anne’s tongue very often ran away with her-but she always tried to make up for it afterwards. They thought it was very brave of her to go and find George.
George was lying on her back under a big tree in the garden. Anne went up to her. “I’m sorry I nearly made a mistake, George,” she said. “Here’s your bread and cheese. I’ve brought it for you. I promise I’ll never forget not to mention Tim again.”
George sat up. “I’ve a good mind not to take you to see the wreck,” she said. “Stupid baby!”
Anne’s heart sank. This was what she had feared. “Well,” she said, “you needn’t take me, of course. But you might take the boys, George. After all, they didn’t do anything silly. And anyway, you gave me an awful kick. Look at the bruise.”
George looked at it. Then she looked at Anne. “But wouldn’t you be miserable if I took Julian and Dick without you?” she asked.
“Of course,” said Anne. “But I don’t want to make them miss a treat, even if I have to.”
Then George did a surprising thing for her. She gave Anne a hug! Then she immediately looked most ashamed of herself, for she felt sure that no boy would have done that! And she always tried to act like a boy.
“It’s all right,” she said, gruffly, taking the bread and cheese. “You were nearly very silly-and I gave you a kick-so it’s all square. Of course you can come this afternoon.”
Anne sped back to tell the boys that everything was all right-and in fifteen minutes’ time four children ran down to the beach. By a boat was a brown-faced fisher-boy, about fourteen years old. He had Timothy with him.
“Boat’s all ready, Master George,” he said with a grin. “And Tim’s ready, too.”