"Oh, she's coming back! she's coming!" cried Amy almost in tears. "Oh, I was sure she was dead!"
"Hush," Betty cautioned her in a whisper. "I think she knows what we are talking about," then bending over the girl she said very gently: "Do you feel better, dear?"
Slowly the eyelids fluttered, and the eyes gazed vaguely up into Betty's sweet ones. The lips moved and Betty bent down closer to listen.
"I don't know you, do I?" the words were almost inaudible. "I—I—don't seem to remember——"
"Don't try, my dear," said Betty soothingly, while two tears made their way down her face, only to be dashed away impatiently. "You have been through a terrible experience, and you don't have to think very hard just now—there is plenty of time."
Slowly, understanding replaced the vague wonder in the girl's eyes, and she reached out with an unsteady hand to touch Betty's white dress.
"I wanted to be sure you were real," she explained, smiling wistfully. "I was afraid you might vanish. Will you help me to remember?" she pleaded.
Betty's warm heart went out to the girl, and when she spoke her voice was full of pity and tenderness.
"I'll help you as far as I can," she promised. "You were swimming and something happened that made you cry for help. Luckily we happened to be near and one of the boys got you and brought you back to land. And here you are getting strong and well again," she finished brightly.
"Well, whoever you are, you're a dear," said the stranger, the emphasis showing how quickly she was gaining strength. "I remember now all about it. Mother and dad have told me over and over that I must not come over here alone; but the day was perfect for a swim and no one else would come, so I slipped off by myself. I was swimming all right, and then I was taken with cramps. Oh, oh, it was terrible!" and she covered her face with her hands to shut out the memory.