"But, oh! where is Margaret?" cried Bess, as Corinne rushed to embrace her. "Why isn't she with you?"
"Oh, she'll be along in a minute!" announced Corinne, unconcernedly. Then suddenly she turned, and said quietly:
"Look!"
They turned at her command, and glanced upward expecting to see their sister in her usual wheel-chair. Instead, there at the top of the gangway—stood Margaret, rosy, plump, and browned by the sun! And under her arms were a pair of crutches! When she saw her own family below, she blew them a kiss, adjusted her crutches, and proceeded down the gangway alone, haltingly, it is true, but refusing the assistance of the anxious steward who hovered behind her!
To the members of her family, who never in all their lives had beheld her on her feet, the sight was almost overwhelming. The twins and their mother were actually too stunned to speak, and Alexander relieved himself only by a low-muttered, "Can you beat it!"—his favorite expression of surprise. But it was Sarah who did the most astonishing thing. She tore up the gangway, snatched Margaret when she was but half-way down, and bore her back, crutches and all, to the group below, crying:
"Me little darlint! It's true! It's true! I didn't believe it!"
The Charlton Street house was a scene that night of such festivity and rejoicing as it had probably never known before in all its history. Corinne and her father and aunt had accompanied the Bronsons home, and stayed to a feast that Sarah had evolved in some sudden and mysterious manner, for she had been away from the house all of the afternoon. But Sarah was an adept at such bits of necromancy. Then, when the older folks were still talking hard and fast, the five young people drew apart by themselves, and Jess said:
"Now, for goodness' sake, explain the whole business again! My brain is so bewildered I can't seem to understand it all yet!"
It was Corinne who tried to straighten out the tangle. She told how, before they started on their trip, her father had suddenly become possessed with the idea that perhaps something could be done to help Margaret's trouble if only the right physician could be found. It happened that he was personally acquainted with a doctor famous for his success in this very kind of case and who also usually spent a few weeks at that season of the year in Bermuda. If Margaret could be helped by any one in the world, Mr. Cameron felt sure it would be by this surgeon. So he privately made up his mind that the famous specialist should be consulted as soon as they got there. But of this he said not a word to any one, lest it should only be a cause of disappointment in case no good was accomplished.
Corinne laughed, however, when she said there was one exception to this. On the night when Sarah had issued her awful ultimatum, Mr. Cameron made up his mind that the only way to influence her was to tell her, privately, his hopes for Margaret. This he did, and it had the remarkable effect that had so bewildered them. This, also, was the reason why Sarah seemed the least surprised and had said such strange things that day at the pier.