The two girls and Ted stood at the ocean’s edge, almost directly in front of the bungalows, whiling away a glorious, crisp afternoon in striving to induce the reluctant fish to bite. For some reason or other, they seemed remarkably shy that day. Leslie’s nibble had been the first suggestion of possible luck. Just as she was cautiously beginning to reel in her line a pair of hands was clasped over her eyes, and a gay voice laughed “Guess who!”
“Eileen!” cried Leslie, joyfully, forgetting all about her nibble. “Oh, but it’s good to see you! We’ve missed you so since you left. Where did you come from?”
“Grandfather and I motored down to-day,” replied Eileen, as they all crowded round her, “to stay over night at Aunt Sally’s in the village. He’s going to drive out here a little later, with Geoffrey at the wheel, because he wants to see you people. You know, we sail for England on Saturday, and he says he doesn’t intend to leave before he has a chance to greet the friends who did so much for him! You’ve no idea how much better he is! He began to pick up the moment I told him the news that night; and in the two weeks since, he’s been like another person. But he hates it in New York and it doesn’t agree with him, and he just wanted to come down here once more before we left.”
“But how did you get here, if he’s coming later in the car?” demanded Phyllis.
“Oh, I walked, of course! It was a glorious day for it. Aunt Sally wondered so, to see me taking the air in anything but that car! What a dear she is! And how scandalously I had to treat her when I stayed there before. But the dear lady never suspected that I was in an agony of worry and suspense all the time, and didn’t dare to be nice to her for fear I’d just be tempted to give way and tell the whole secret. I used to long to throw myself in her lap and boo-hoo on her shoulder! I’ve made it all up with her since, though! There’s Grandfather now! Come up to the veranda, all of you, because he’s not strong enough yet to walk on the sand.”
They hurried up to the house and got there in time for Eileen to make the introductions. They were all deeply attracted to the tall, stooping, gray-haired, pleasant-mannered gentleman who greeted them so cordially—as if they were old and valued friends instead of such recent acquaintances.
“I’m going to ask you to let me sit awhile on your front veranda,” he said. “I want to get a last impression of this lovely spot to carry away with me to England. Also, I would like to have a chat with you young folks and tell you how much I appreciate what you all did for us.”
Rather embarrassed by his suggestion that there was anything to thank them for, Leslie led him through the house to the veranda facing the ocean. Here Aunt Marcia sat, wrapped to the eyes, enjoying the late October sunshine, the invigorating salt air, and the indescribable beauty of the changeful ocean. Leslie had long since, very cautiously and gradually, revealed to her the story of their adventure at Curlew’s Nest. So carefully had she done so that any possible alarm Miss Marcia might have experienced was swallowed up in wonder at the marvelous way in which it had all turned out.
Leslie now introduced Mr. Ramsay, and they all gathered around him as he settled himself to enjoy the view. He chatted a while with Miss Marcia, compared notes with her on the effect of the climate on her health and his own, then turned to the young folks.
“It is quite useless for me,” he began, “to try to express my appreciation of all you people have done for Eileen and myself in the little matter of the bronze box.”