“How long have you been sitting there?” Gale demanded smiling.
“Since—since—not very long,” Phyllis replied. “You do—you do remember me?” she asked gently.
“Of course,” Gale said. “But why—oh, I know! You heard that I couldn’t remember anything. That I didn’t know——”
Phyllis nodded. “Brent told us.”
That was the beginning of a talk that lasted a long time, before either of them thought of the other people in the main room of the cottage.
“We’ve been here since this morning,” Phyllis explained when she stood up. “We flew up last night. Your parents, Dr. Miller, and Brent and I. Antoinette is an angel! This morning when you were missing was almost as bad as—when the plane crashed. Then when Brent and I saw you fall from the ledge—my heart nearly stopped!”
“It was sweet of you to come all the way up here, Phyl,” Gale said, “to help me.”
Phyllis colored uncomfortably. “I’ll tell the others you are awake. We’ve been worried all day.”
When Phyllis had departed Gale had but a moment to reminisce over all the days she had been here and to grasp the fact now of what her mysterious disappearance and subsequent hiding must have meant to those in Marchton. She regretted every moment of anxiety she had caused them and vowed to make it up; then the others came in and there was the happiest joy of reunion.
Later, much, much later, when the others forced themselves to leave in order to let Gale sleep and regain her strength to travel back to Marchton on the morrow, her miraculous escape from serious injury in both the airplane crash and her fall this morning was still a wonder to them.