It was many hours later and the dusk was falling softly over the land. The passengers of the wrecked ship had long ago started villageward, there to entrain for the city, leaving two of their number behind.
These two were seated at the head of a long table in the little house at Bluff Point, devouring chicken and rice before an audience of admiring and joyful Outdoor Girls. Only Mollie very often could not see them for the tears that dimmed her eyes.
Quite suddenly Betty stopped in the very middle of a sentence to stare at Mollie.
"Your mother!" she cried. "You forgot to let her know!"
"Oh, no, I didn't," Mollie answered. "I sent a telegram by one of the boys who took that dirty Spaniard to the station. And, oh, girls," she leaned forward suddenly while the tears overflowed and slowly trickled down her face, "if she does as I begged her to, she will be here to-morrow. Darling little mother!"
At the love in her voice the girls felt their own eyes grow wet.
"What a difference!" said Betty softly, looking around the table. "A few nights ago we were utterly miserable. Now we are wildly happy. We have the darling twins back again, and our boys 'over there' are safe. Girls," she cried, suddenly springing to her feet and raising her cup on high, "let's drink a toast—"
"To what?" they cried, rising with one motion.
"To the time when our boys come home!"