“Yes, she is coming. Now just think how you have suffered worrying over her this morning, and all for nothing.”
Elizabeth drew a long happy breath. “I don’t care now she’s coming,” she said, and it was as if she sang the words.
Laura went on, “Have you noticed, Elizabeth, how different Olga is from the other girls? She never laughs and frolics. She never really enjoys any of the games. She cares for nothing but work. She hasn’t a single friend in the camp—she won’t have one. I don’t think she is happy, do you?”
Elizabeth considered that in silence. She had known these things, but she had never thought of them before.
“It’s so,” she admitted finally, her eyes on the approaching boat.
“Elizabeth, I think you are the only one who can really help Olga.”
“I?” Elizabeth lifted wondering eyes. Then she added hastily, “You mean—going in the water?” She shuddered at the thought.
“Yes, dear, if you will let Olga help you to get rid of your fear of the water, it will mean more to her even than to you. Olga needs you, child, more than you need her, for you have many friends now in the camp, and she has only you.”
“I like her the best of all,” Elizabeth declared loyally.
“Yes, but you must prove it to her before you can really help her,” Laura replied. “See, she is almost in now, and I won’t keep you any longer.”