“Madge, I am afraid that you and the girls are not having as good a time at Cape May as I had hoped you would have,” remarked Mrs. Curtis to the little captain about a week later as they strolled along the beautiful ocean boulevard that overlooked the sea. Only the day before Mrs. Curtis and Tom had returned from Chicago. Just behind them, Lillian, Miss Jenny Ann, Phyllis, Tom Curtis and Mrs. Curtis’s protÉgÉ, Philip Holt, loitered along the beach. They were too far away to overhear the conversation of the two women.

“On the contrary, we are having a perfectly beautiful time,” answered Madge, her face radiant with the pleasure of her surroundings. “I think Cape May is one of the loveliest places in the whole world! And we girls have met the most splendid old sea captain. He has the dearest, snuggest little house up the bay! He was once a deep-sea diver and knows the most fascinating stories about the treasures of the sea.” Madge ceased speaking. She could tell from her friend’s slightly bored expression that Mrs. Curtis was not interested in the story of a common sailor.

“Yes, Madge, I know about all that,” Mrs. Curtis returned a little coldly. “What I meant is that I fear you girls are not enjoying the social life of Cape May, which is what I looked forward to for you. I do wish, dear, that you cared more for society and less for such people as this old sailor and a tenement child like Tania. I doubt if this man is a fit associate for you.”

Madge’s blue eyes darkened. She thought of the splendid old sailor, with his great strength and gentle manners, his knowledge of the world and his fine simplicity, and of queer, loving little Tania, but she wisely held her peace. “I am sorry, too, that I don’t like society more if you wish it,” she replied sweetly. “I do like the society of clever, agreeable people, but not—I like Ethel Swann and her friends immensely,” she ended. “And, please, don’t say anything against my old pearl diver, Mrs. Curtis, until you see him. I am sure that you and Tom will think that he is splendid.”

Mrs. Curtis looked searchingly at Madge, and Madge returned her gaze without lowering her eyes. Mrs. Curtis’s face softened. She found it hard to scold her favorite, but she had been very much vexed at the story that Philip Holt had repeated to her of Madge’s escapades at Cape May, and how she accused Roy Dennis of cowardice when he had taken her and her friends on his boat after Madge’s and Phil’s own heedlessness had caused their skiff to be overturned. Somehow, the tale of the throwing of the ball on board Roy Dennis’s yacht and of frightening Mabel Farrar had also gone abroad in Cape May. Lillian had confided the anecdote to Ethel Swann under promise of the greatest secrecy. The story had seemed to Ethel too ridiculous to keep to herself, so she had repeated it to another friend, after demanding the same promise that Lillian had exacted from her. And so the story had traveled and grown until it was a very mischievous tale that Philip Holt had recounted to Mrs. Curtis, taking care that Tom Curtis was not about when he told it.

Mrs. Curtis thought Madge too old for such practical jokes. She also believed that Madge should have more dignity and self-control. She loved her very dearly, and she wished her to come to live with her as her daughter after her own, daughter, Madeleine, had married, but Mrs. Curtis was determined that the little captain should learn to be less impetuous and more conventional.

“Philip Holt has told you something about me, hasn’t he, Mrs. Curtis?” asked Madge meekly, hiding the flash in her eyes by lowering her lids.

“Philip told me very little. He is the soul of honor,” answered Mrs. Curtis quickly. “You are absurdly prejudiced against him. But with the little that he told me and what I have gathered from other sources, I feel that you have been most indiscreet. I can’t help thinking that the various things that have happened may be laid at your door, and that the other girls have just stood by you, as they always do.”

Madge bit her lips. “Whatever has occurred that you don’t like is my fault, Mrs. Curtis,” she confessed, “and Phil, Lillian and Nellie have stood by me. I am sorry that you are angry.”

The other young people were coming closer. Not for worlds would Madge have had them overhear her conversation with Mrs. Curtis. She was too proud and too hurt to ask Mrs. Curtis just what Philip Holt had said against her. Neither would she retaliate against him by telling her friend of his rudeness.

Mrs. Curtis put one arm about Madge. “It is all right, my dear,” she said, softening a little, “but you must promise me that you will not do such harum-scarum things again, and that you will try to keep your temper.” Mrs. Curtis was on the point of asking Madge to give up her acquaintance with the sailor and not to see the man again, but she knew that her young friend was feeling a little hurt and no doubt resentful toward her, so she put off making her request until a later time.

“Tania has behaved very well, so far, hasn’t she, Madge?” Mrs. Curtis tactfully changed the subject. “I confess I am surprised. Philip Holt assured me that the child was continually in mischief in the tenement neighborhood where she lives. When he took her into the neighborhood house to try to help her she positively stole something. I am afraid Tania’s mother was not the woman you think she was; she was only a cheap little actress, a dancer.” Mrs. Curtis glanced at her companion. Madge was eyeing her seriously.

“It isn’t like you, Mrs. Curtis, dear, to say things against people. Philip Holt must have——” Madge stopped abruptly. At the same time Tom Curtis came up from behind to join his mother and the girl.

“Come on, Madge, and have a race with me across the sands,” he urged. “Mother will be trying to make you so grown-up that we can’t have any sport at all. Besides, you are looking pale. I am sure you need exercise. There is a crowd over there in front of the music pavilion. I will wager a five-pound box of candy that I can beat you to it. Philip Holt will entertain Mother. She likes him better than she does the rest of us, anyhow, because he devotes his time to good works and to working good people,” added Tom teasingly, under his breath.

While Tom was talking Madge darted off across the sands. She never would get over her love of running, she felt sure, until she was old and rheumatic. The color came back to her cheeks and the laughter to her eyes.

Tom was close behind her. “Madge Morton, you didn’t give me a fair start,” he protested, “you rushed away before I was ready. I thought you always played fair?”

Madge dropped into a walk. “I do try to, Tom,” she answered more earnestly than Tom had expected. His remark had been made only in fun. “You believe in me, don’t you, Tom?” she added pleadingly.

“Now and forever, Madge, through thick and thin,” answered Tom steadily.

They had now come up nearer the crowd of people on the beach. Up on a grand stand a band was playing an Italian waltz, and an eager crowd had gathered, apparently to listen to the music.

But the two young people soon saw that on the hard sand a child was dancing. Tom stopped outside the circle of watchers, but Madge went forward into it. She had at once recognized little Tania! Eleanor had been left on the houseboat to take care of the child, but Eleanor was now nowhere to be seen, and her charge had wandered into mischief.

Tania was dancing in her most bewitching and wonderful fashion. Madge could not help feeling a little embarrassed pride in her. The child was moving like a flower swayed by the wind. She poised first on one foot, then on the other, then flitted forward on both pointed toes, her thin, eager arms outstretched, curving and bending with the rhythm of the music. She wore her best white dress, the pride of her life, which Eleanor had lately made for her. On her head she had placed a wreath of wild flowers, which she must have woven for herself. They were like a fairy crown on her dark head. With the love of bright colors, which she must have inherited from some Italian ancestor, she had twisted a bright scarlet sash about her waist.

Again Madge saw that Tania was utterly unconscious of the audience about her. She looked neither to the right nor to the left, but straight upward to the turquoise-blue sky.

How different Tania’s audience to-day from the crowd of people that had watched her on the street corner when Eleanor and Madge had first seen her! Yet these gay society folk were even more fascinated by the child’s wonderful art. They could better appreciate her remarkable dancing.

Tania did not even see her beloved Madge, who was silently watching her. Tania’s usually pale cheeks glowed as scarlet as her sash. Unconsciously the little girl’s movements were like those of a butterfly, a-flutter with the joy of the sunshine and new life.

The music stopped suddenly and with it Tania’s dance ceased as abruptly. She stood poised for a single instant on one dainty foot, with her graceful arms still swaying above her flower-crowned head. Her audience watched her breathlessly, for the effect of the child’s grace had been almost magical.

“Wasn’t that a wonderful performance?” whispered Tom in Madge’s ear. “The child is an artist! Where do you suppose she learned to dance like that?”

But Tania had come back to earth in a brief second. To Madge’s mystification, Tania started about among the people who had been watching her performance with her small hands clasped together like a cup.

The child courtesied shyly to a fat old lady. Her gesture was unmistakable. The woman rummaged in her chain pocket-book and dropped a silver quarter into Tania’s outstretched hands. The next onlooker was more generous. Tania’s eyes shone as she felt the size and weight of a big silver dollar.

Few people in the Cape May crowd knew who Tania was, or whence she had come. They probably thought that the object of the dance had been to earn money.

For a few moments Madge had been paralyzed by Tania’s peculiar actions. She did not realize what they meant. In this lapse of time the rest of their party joined them.

It was the expression on Mrs. Curtis’s face that made Madge appreciate what Tania was doing.

“What on earth is Tania about?” exclaimed Lillian in puzzled tones. She saw the child standing before a young man who was evidently teasing her and refusing her request for money.

“She has been dancing like a monkey with a hand organ,” answered Philip Holt scornfully. “I am afraid Cape May people will hardly understand it. It looks as though the young women on the ‘Merry Maid’ were in need of money.” The young man laughed as though his last remark had been intended for a joke.

“None of that talk, Holt.” Madge caught Tom’s angry tone as she hurried forward to Tania. The little captain could have cried with mortification and embarrassment. In the crowd of curious onlookers she caught sight of Mabel Farrar’s and Roy Dennis’s sneering faces.

“Tania!” she cried sharply. “What in the world are you doing? Stop taking that money at once!”

Tania glanced around and discovered Madge. Instead of looking ashamed of herself, the child’s face grew radiant. “Madge,” she cried, in a high voice that could be heard all about them, “it is all for you!”

Tania rushed forward with her outstretched hands overflowing with silver.

Madge could have sunk through the sands for shame. Mrs. Curtis’s face flamed with anger and chagrin. She might have been able to explain to her friends that Tania was only a street child and knew no better than to dance for money; but how could she ever explain the remark to Madge? It looked as though Madge had been a party to Tania’s dancing and begging.

Madge was overcome with embarrassment and humiliation. She knew that she must, for the minute, appear like a beggar to the crowd of Cape May people. For just that instant she would have liked to repulse Tania, to have thrust the child and her money away from her before every one. But a glance at Tania’s eager, happy face restrained her. She put her arm protectingly about the little girl, hiding her in the shelter of her body. “I don’t want the money, Tania,” she whispered. “It wasn’t right for you to have taken it from these people.”

“Don’t you want it?” faltered Tania. “I thought you said last night that you and Eleanor were very poor, and that you needed some money very much. All the time I was in bed last night I thought of what your Fairy Godmother could do to help you. I know how to do but one thing—to dance as my mother taught me. How can it be wrong to take the money from people? I have often done it in New York. They only gave it to me because they liked my dancing.” Madge could feel Tania’s hot tears on her hands.

She clasped Tania closer. “It isn’t exactly wrong, Tania; I was mistaken. It was just different. I will have to explain it to you afterward. Now we must give the money back to the people again.”

Holding tight to Tania’s hand, Madge walked among the group of strangers, explaining Tania’s actions as best she could without hurting the little girl’s feelings. It was one of the hardest things that the proud little captain had ever been called upon to do. But a part of the crowd had scattered. It was not possible to find them all and return their silver. Tania was too puzzled and heart-broken to continue her errand long. She did not understand why Madge had refused to take her gift, which she thought she had fairly earned. Finally she could hold back her sobs no longer. Dropping her few remaining nickels and dimes on the sand she broke away from Madge’s clasp and ran like a little wild creature away from everyone.

Madge stopped for just a second among her friends before following Tania.

“You see, Madge,” remarked Mrs. Curtis coldly, “Tania is quite impossible. I knew the child would get you into difficulties, and it is just as I feared. She must be sent away at once.”

But Madge shook her head with a decision that was unmistakable.

“No,” she answered quietly, “Tania shall not be sent away. None of you understand, and I can’t explain it to you now, but Tania thought she was doing something for Nellie and me. She was foolish, of course, and I will see that she never does it again.”

With her head held high, Madge hurried away in pursuit of her Fairy Godmother.