“Very romantic,” said Richard, “but why has he been speaking only English all these years?”
“Don’t ask me anything so scientific, please.”
“It would go hard with me,” pursued Richard, “if I got a blow on the head over my English-language bump, because I wouldn’t have any other to take its place.”
Having arranged the history of the sick man to their own satisfaction, and as a matter of fact, to the doctor’s and Mr. Campbell’s also, they returned to Sunrise Camp, leaving Alberdina and Phoebe behind them.
Poor Phoebe had watched Billie and Richard together from the doorstep of the cabin. Then she had folded her hands with a gesture of resignation and closed her eyes. Something had hurt her. She still felt the pain and not all her faith nor prayers could ease it.
That night the campers gathered around the fire and discussed the mystery of the “Prince in Exile,” as they had named Phoebe’s father. They told stories of similar cases, of men with double identities who had been lost for years, of men who had made new lives for themselves and even earned fortunes.
“I knew he was a prince the first time I saw him,” Mary exclaimed.
“And now Phoebe will be a princess and perhaps very rich,” observed Elinor.
“Think of stepping from a cabin to a palace,” went on Amy Swinnerton. “From being a barefooted girl selling blackberries on the mountain to being a noble lady with a retinue of servants.”
And so they all talked and discussed and enjoyed themselves immensely until a motor horn interrupted them. A car had evidently stopped in front and someone now hurried over to the group around the fire.