“And we have all been so happy about you, Margaret, since Lucy told us the specialist said you were cured,” broke in Evelyn.
“Isn’t it great?” said Marjorie. “Margaret was telling us about it on the way up. It seems almost miraculous.” 23
Margaret flushed happily. “Oh, the doctors say there is nothing miraculous about it. They say all I wanted was the exercise and healthy outdoor life. But I know who really did it,” she added, putting her arm about Lucile. “It was you girls—yes it was,” she insisted, as they started to protest. “You were the first I can remember—except father, of course—who treated me like a human being and not a curiosity. And, oh I’m so grateful and happy,” she ended.
Lucile patted the brown head on her shoulder.
“You give us altogether too much credit, Margaret, dear,” she said, unsteadily. “It was Miss Howland that thought of it in the first place, and after we knew you we just couldn’t help loving you for yourself and wanting to help.”
“That’s right,” cried the girls, heartily.
Margaret glanced around at the sober faces of her friends and, although her eyes were still wet, there was a little hint of raillery in her voice:
“Well, I did think you girls had something to do with it, but since you say you didn’t, we’ll have to call it a miracle, after all.”
The girls laughed a trifle shakily and Evelyn added, “But there’s our guardian, you know.”
“Oh, yes,” said Margaret, and her voice was very tender. “Of course, there’s our guardian. I don’t know what we’d ever do without her.”