"Of course you'll get well," laughed the Judge. "Before long you'll be busting broncos, as Kit says. You can't help but feel better in this glorious air," he said, stroking her thin hand.
The woman smiled at the happy faces about her then her eyes rested hungrily on her daughter. Her heart had not yet been satisfied, she was eager to make up to that daughter for the years of separation.
The Judge had owned the ranch for three years, but this was the first visit his wife had made to it. The doctors had tried to persuade her to leave the Long Island home where the memories of her lost daughter surrounded her, but she had clung to the place, always waiting, always expecting the child to be returned.
She had had a long wait, but happiness had come at last. And in finding Enid, they had found The Merriweather Girls, those four chums that had crept into their hearts.
Tang was once more gliding about the veranda, following after the boys to see that tea was served properly. And when a sudden shaft of sunlight struck across the face of the sick woman, Tang clapped his hands sharply once more and the boys ran to his side. As the older man indicated the chair, the boys picked it up gently and carried it to a shaded spot. Not a word had been spoken.
"Service!" chuckled Joy. "That's service!"
Shirley was already busy with her camera. She had it pointed toward the invalid's chair.
"Don't take a picture of me, yet, Shirley," exclaimed Mrs.
Breckenridge. "Wait a few weeks until I am well."
But Enid interrupted: "No, Mother, we want one now. You know you do look lovely there, and besides we want a picture to show how much you improve."
"Before and after taking!" Mrs. Breckenridge's cheery laugh echoed through the corridors.