"Kit dear, listen to me. This is Bet. I'm right here beside you!" Bet repeated the sentence over and over until at last the sick brain seemed to grasp the idea and the girl quieted down, and even slept for a few minutes.
"She'll be all right now," the doctor announced to Colonel Baxter, who had come in to inquire how Kit was. "And you'd better get your daughter back to bed. She's been under a strain and needs rest."
The Colonel lifted Bet tenderly in his arms and carried her to her room.
"Sit by me, Dad, I'm frightened," she sighed. "It's so comfortable to have you. I want to hold on to you, then I don't think about that storm."
The Colonel took the little hand in his and held it until she finally relaxed and fell asleep. Not until the lines of strain had left her face, to be replaced by a peaceful expression, did he go back to his own room.
Even then he could not sleep. The details of the storm were pictured in his mind and kept him awake. Adding horror upon horror, he tossed from side to side.
"What if Bet had been drowned!"
Again and again he arose and tiptoed into Bet's room to make sure that she was resting, and that he still had her! Without Bet, life would be unbearable!