“Yes, yes,” they cried, and Elinor especially pressed her cheek to her friend’s shoulder. Billie seemed dearer to her now than ever before, and all the morning a little verse had been running through her head:
“Oh, blessings on that falling out
Which all the more endears,
When we fall out with those we love
And kiss again with tears.”
“Don’t cry, Billie,” said Edward. “I think we’ve had a great experience. Nobody was hurt and we did the things we started out to do. We’ve saved the Comet and we are on the road to Virginia’s. Don’t you recognize this place?”
“It is the same,” replied Billie, comforted by the reassurance of her friends and smiling away her tears. “It’s the very road we took that day when we came up from the lake.”
Already they could see the avenue of pines and as they turned in, the sunlight gleamed quite cheerfully on the old white house at the far end.
“Virginia will have to go back with us,” said Billie, “to show us the way home.”
The place was as still as ever, when they drew up at the front door, but a certain inexplicable change had taken place. They could hardly tell what it was. Perhaps, that the front door was wide open and a big easy chair with a book and a newspaper stood on the gallery. They had not had time to get down, when Virginia herself appeared at the door and welcomed them as joyfully as if the very nicest thing in the world that could happen to her that morning was to see these new friends.
With a little cry of pleasure she ran out to meet them, her fluffy blonde hair blowing about her face like a pale gold halo.
“I am so glad to see you,” she cried. “Won’t you come in? Have you had a nice ride?”
Nice? They exchanged glances.