It was late in the evening. Miss Jenny Ann had prepared dinner for the weary and disheartened girls. She had snowy biscuit, broiled ham, roasted potatoes, milk, and honey, the very things her charges usually loved. Tom Curtis felt impelled to go back home. All that day he had seen nothing of his mother or of their visitor, Philip Holt, and Tom was afraid they would begin to wonder what had become of him.
Madge caught Tom by the sleeve and looked at him with beseeching eyes. “Please don’t go, Tom,” she begged, with a catch in her voice, “I am sure your mother won’t mind. She has Mr. Holt with her, and I can’t bear to see you go.”
Tom and Madge were near the gangplank of the houseboat and Tom was trying to make up his mind what he should do, when he and Madge caught sight of a gray-clad figure walking toward them through the twilight mists.
“It’s Mother,” explained Tom in a relieved tone. “Now I can make it all right with her.”
“And that horrid Philip Holt isn’t along,” declared Madge delightedly, “so I can tell her about poor little Tania.”
Mrs. Curtis caught Madge, who had run out to meet her, by the hand. “My dear child, what is the matter with you?” the older woman asked immediately. “Even in this half-light I can see that your face is pale as death and you look utterly worn out. If one of you is ill, why have you not sent for me?”
When Madge faltered out her story of the lost Tania Mrs. Curtis hugged her to her in the old sympathetic way that the little captain knew and loved.
“I am so sorry, dear,” soothed Mrs. Curtis, “but I am sure than Tom and Philip Holt will find her. I suppose that is why they have both been away all day.”
“Philip Holt!” exclaimed Tom in surprise. “He hasn’t been with us. I thought he was at home with you.”
Mrs. Curtis shook her head indifferently. “No; he hasn’t been at the cottage all day. Have any of you thought to send word to Captain Jules to ask him about Tania? It may be that the child is with him. In any event, I know Captain Jules would give us good advice.”