“I’ll bring you some coral beads, Anne,” Amos promised as he said good-bye, and started back for the wharf. Frederick went with him, and listened admiringly to Amos’s plans of all he meant to see and do. Frederick began to think that it would be better to go to sea than to build ships. He watched the “Sea Gull’s” sails as they caught the wind, and his eyes followed the little vessel until it looked not unlike the white-winged bird whose name it bore.

As he entered the yard Rose came down the path to meet him. She had a small package in her hand.

“I want you to do something for me, Fred,” she said, “and I don’t want any one, especially Anne and Millicent, to know anything about it.”

This sounded interesting to Frederick, and he looked up hopefully. Perhaps there was some message to be carried from Boston to the American troops in New York, and that he, Frederick Freeman, had been selected to carry it. Probably it was wrapped up in that package which Rose held so carefully. Why, it would be a greater adventure than any Amos Cary would encounter on the “Sea Gull.”

“Is it in that package, Rose?” he asked eagerly.

“How did you guess?” and Rose looked at her small brother in surprise.

“Come on out to the carriage-house, and tell me when you want me to start,” and Frederick grasped Rose’s arm and hurried her along. “When do you want me to start?” he asked.

“Why, right away,” answered Rose in rather a puzzled tone.

The brother and sister entered the carriage-house, and Frederick led the way to the corner where his work-bench stood, and they sat down.

“Nobody will hear us here,” said Frederick in a mysterious whisper, looking sharply about the room.

“Oh, Fred! I do believe that you are making believe that you are a Tory spy in danger of capture,” laughed Rose.“Indeed I’m not! I wouldn’t make believe be a spy,” responded the boy scornfully. “I’m a loyal messenger, ready to carry news to General Washington!”

“Here is the message,” and Rose handed her brother the package.

Frederick took it with shining eyes, and held it closely.

“Oh, Rose, is it truly? And where am I to take it?” he asked.

“Why, Fred, you ‘pretend’ splendidly,” said his sister. “I suppose you’d really like to be messenger for Washington, but that isn’t it, you know. Just unroll that package and tell me how good a doll you can make.”

“Make a doll!” Fred flung the little bundle to the floor and looked ready to cry. “I suppose you think it’s funny to make me believe I could do something to help Washington, when you really just had an old wooden doll to show me.”

“Now, Fred,” and Rose put her hand on her brother’s shoulder, “own up that I didn’t say a word to make you imagine such a thing. You know I didn’t! I asked you if you would do something for me, and not let any one know.”“Well, I might have known nothing interesting would happen to me,” said Frederick. “Nothing ever does,” and he regarded poor “Martha Stoddard” with scornful eyes.

“I want you to make a wooden doll as nearly like this one as you can,” said Rose. “Millicent has taken possession of this one, and it’s the only doll Anne has, and I’m sure that she doesn’t want Millicent to have it. I thought if you could make one just like it that Millicent would like the new one better, and then Anne could have her own.”

“All right,” but Fred’s voice was a little surly.

“And as for nothing happening to you, Fred, you ought to be thankful that nothing does happen, and that we are all safe and well. Suppose the British had won the battles at Concord and Lexington and Bunker Hill,” and Rose looked at her small brother more sternly than ever before. “I could tell you of something very pleasant that is going to happen to you,” she concluded.

“What is it, Rose?” and Fred was again eager and hopeful.

But Rose shook her head. “You just wait and see. Make the wooden doll. I’ll tell you when the doll is finished,” and she picked “Martha” up from the floor where Frederick had dropped her.

“Can’t I keep her for a pattern?” asked Frederick.

“Yes. Anne and Millicent are making paper dolls, and they won’t miss her for a little while, but bring her in before supper time.”

“All right,” and Frederick nodded cheerfully. He was already looking over his stock of wood for suitable pieces for the new doll, and wondering what the pleasant surprise would be.

Millicent could cut out very queer little dolls, and she and Anne were quite happy together under the big horse-chestnut tree until Anne said: “Where is my wooden doll, Millicent?”

“It’s mine; my Anne Rose,” said little Millicent placidly. “I don’t know where she is. I guess she’s lost,” and Millicent carefully folded a piece of paper to cut another doll.

“Lost!” Anne repeated.

“Yes,” agreed Millicent, indifferently. “I guess she is; p’raps she isn’t, though.”

Anne remembered Caroline’s story of elves, and was quite sure that her head was filled with them, for she felt as if she wanted to shake Millicent, and at the thought that her dear “Martha” was really lost Anne began to cry.

Millicent put down the scissors and paper, and looked at Anne with startled eyes, and then she began to cry. Rose came running out from the carriage-house.

“What is the matter, dear?” and she kneeled down beside her little sister. But Millicent sobbed on.

“Tell me, Anne,” and she turned toward her little visitor.

“Millicent has lost ‘Martha Stoddard,’” Anne managed to reply, wiping her eyes, and feeling very much ashamed that Rose should have seen her cry.

“Nonsense! The doll isn’t lost. I saw it a minute ago. Come, Millicent; I’ll go with you and Anne for a little walk toward King’s Chapel,” and Rose held out a hand to each of the girls.

“Rose,” exclaimed Anne suddenly, “I know that you think I’m selfish about ‘Martha Stoddard,’ but Rose, listen!” and Anne looked up pleadingly into her friend’s face. “When I was a little girl, not as large as Millicent, and my mother had died, and my father and I were all alone, he made me that wooden doll! I never had anything else to play with until I went to live with Aunt Martha. It isn’t just a doll, Rose; it’s—why, it’s most like a real person,” and Anne’s voice sounded as if it was hard work to keep back the tears.

“You ought to have told me before,” replied Rose kindly. “You see, Millicent is too little to understand, and we all love her and don’t like to make her unhappy. ‘Martha’ is all right, and you shall have her safely back, dear,” and Rose’s voice was even more kind and friendly than usual as she told Anne of the new doll that Fred was making for Millicent.

“A new doll!” exclaimed Millicent happily, and could hardly wait for the time when Fred would finish it.

“So there goes my great secret!” laughed Rose. Anne was looking quite her happy self again, and Millicent was skipping along quite forgetting that she had ever wanted the wooden doll from Province Town.

“I don’t believe I like secrets anyway,” continued Rose; “let’s go back to the carriage-house and watch Fred make the new doll, and I’ll bring out the clothes I have made to dress it.”Frederick looked up from his work in surprise when the girls entered the carriage-house. “Thought it was a secret!” he exclaimed.

“No more secrets in this family,” declared Rose.

“Glad to hear it. Now I can know what’s going to happen to me,” responded Fred.

“Of course you can. Father has to go to Salem next week and he is going to take you with him.”

“Nothing will happen in driving to Salem in the morning and back at night,” said Frederick, a little scornfully.

“Wait and see!” and Rose nodded so hopefully that Frederick wondered to himself if she had really told him all she knew about his father’s plans.

While the children were in the carriage-house they heard the clatter of horses’ hoofs on the driveway.

“Look!” exclaimed Frederick. “There’s a man and a woman riding into our yard. Why, the woman is riding that black colt that brought you home.”

But Rose and Anne had not waited for the end of Frederick’s exclamation. Looking out they had seen the pretty black colt, and on its back a slight figure in a brown dress sitting very straight indeed, and wearing a hat of plaited straw with a brown ribbon—a hat exactly like the one Anne was so proud of.

There was a chorus of “Aunt Anne Rose! Aunt Anne Rose!” in which Millicent and Frederick joined, as the children ran out to welcome the unexpected visitors.

“I am here, too!” said Mr. Pierce laughingly.

The visitors were warmly welcomed by Mr. and Mrs. Freeman.

“I couldn’t be satisfied, after this fine saddle came, until I had taken a journey,” declared Aunt Anne Rose, with a happy little laugh. “And my boys were sure that they could keep house without us, so Silas and I started off. Having nieces to visit I felt as if I must come.”

“Anne Rose has never been in Boston before, and she thinks it must be as large as London itself,” said Mr. Pierce.

“There are indeed many places to see,” said Mrs. Freeman, “and it will be a great pleasure for us to show them to Mrs. Pierce.”“There is Mistress Mason’s shop,” suggested Anne.

“And Governor Hancock’s fine house,” added Rose.

“And the wharves and shipyards,” said Frederick.

As they talked the little party moved toward the house. Rose ran to the kitchen to help Caroline prepare an early supper, and Mrs. Freeman sent Anne to show the visitors to the big spare chamber.

“I wear my fine hat every day,” said Anne, as she and Aunt Anne Rose went up the stairs together.

“I really think that we must take Anne back to Scituate with us,” said Mr. Pierce. “What do you say, Anne?”

“My father’s ship may come any day now,” answered the little girl, “and then we must go home to Province Town.”

It seemed to Anne as if Mrs. Pierce’s face grew very grave, and she wondered to herself if Aunt Anne Rose would really like to have her live with them.“Your cheeks are just as red, and your eyes shine; you look just like a girl, Aunt Anne Rose,” she said admiringly, as Mrs. Pierce took off her hat and brushed her pretty black hair, that waved back from her face.

“It’s because I’m on a visit,” declared Mrs. Pierce, “and a visit to Boston. I’ve always wanted to come, and here I am! Everybody looks young and pretty when she is happy, Anne. But I’m not young. I’m past forty, and I never was pretty,” and the dark-eyed little woman smiled radiantly, as if everything in life was planned just right.

The Pierces declared that they could stay only two days, so that evening many plans were made that they should fill the time with as much pleasure as possible. Mr. Pierce had some business to attend to with various merchants, and Anne and Rose were eager to show Mrs. Pierce the shops, the fine houses and churches; and directly after breakfast the next morning Mrs. Freeman sent them all off. Millicent was quite happy to stay with Frederick and watch him finish the wooden doll, while Rose and Anne, with Aunt Anne Rose between them, started off to visit Mistress Mason’s shop, where Mrs. Pierce insisted on buying the largest of the fine dolls as a present for little Millicent, a pink silk sash for Anne and a lace collar for Rose.

“I want you girls to think often of your new aunt,” she said. “And I am hoping that when Anne’s father comes he will decide to bring her to visit us. I have written a letter to him, Anne, and I will give it to you. You must hand it to him, and tell him that you would like to come.”

“Yes, ma’am,” answered the little girl, but not very eagerly. For Anne was now counting the hours until the “Yankee Hero” should reach Boston harbor, and when she and her dear father could sail off to Province Town and tell Aunt Martha all about the wonderful visit, and give Amanda the blue silk sash. She almost wished that Aunt Anne Rose had not told her about the letter.