“I tried to, but I lost my paddle, and so I was afraid to let go the tree again, and the water looked so deep. Oh, Betty, Betty!”
Eleanor sank down on the bank, sobbing as if her heart would break. Betty patted her arm in silence, and in a few moments she stood up, quieted. “You’re going to take me back?” she asked.
“Of course,” said Betty, cheerfully, leading the way to her boat.
“Please wait a minute,” commanded Eleanor.
Betty trembled. “She’s going to say she won’t go back with me,” she thought. “Please let me do it, Eleanor,” she begged.
“Yes,” said Eleanor, quickly, “but first I want to say something. I’ve been a hateful, horrid thing, Betty. I’ve believed unkind stories and done no end of mean things, and I deserve all that I’ve had to-night, except your coming after me. I’ve been ashamed of myself for months, only I wouldn’t say so. I know you can never want me for a friend again, after all my meanness; but Betty, say that you won’t let it hurt you–that you’ll try to forget all about it.”
Betty put a wet arm around Eleanor’s neck and kissed her cheek softly. “You weren’t to blame,” she said. “It was all a mistake and my horrid carelessness. Of course I want you for a friend. I want it more than anything else. And now don’t say another word about it, but just get into the boat and come home.”
They hardly spoke during the return passage; Eleanor was worn out with all she had gone through, and Betty was busy rowing and watching for Katherine’s matches, which made tiny, glimmering dots of light in the gloom. Eleanor did not seem to notice them, nor the shadowy figure that vanished around the boat-house just before they reached the wharf.
From her appointed station under the pine-tree Katherine heard the grinding of the boat on the gravel, the rattle of oars thrown down on the wharf, and then a low murmur of conversation that did not start up the hill toward her, as she had expected.
“Innocents!” sighed Katherine. “They’re actually stopping to talk it out down there in the wet. I’m glad they’ve made it up, and I’d do anything in reason for Betty Wales, but I certainly am sleepy,” and she yawned so loud that a blue jay that was roosting in the tree above her head fluttered up to a higher branch, screaming angrily.