"Any word?" asked the nurse.
"Not for you," replied Mrs. Harriwell with dignity, "I find there are better places than sanitariums for—nervous girls. Come along, sir. Thank you," as she took the major's arm, and left the place.
How that mother listened to Dorothy's words! That her daughter had talked as Dorothy said, that she was at a nearby camp—— Oh, it was good news indeed!
"And she is going to stay with us," Dorothy warned her. "We will not let her go to any more hospitals."
"Never!" exclaimed the mother firmly. "Molly may stay any place she chooses. She is all I have, and I so nearly lost her!"
It was a beautiful evening. The sun had just set. Over the hills could be seen tents, their flags flying and their happy young and old owners could be heard singing, calling, and shouting; could be seen building fires, and doing all the thousand and one absurd things that humanity insists upon doing every time it gets the chance.
"It is lovely to camp," ventured Dorothy. "We have had rather an interrupted season, but I hope now we shall make up for it."
"If money will help you, it shall be yours," declared the anxious woman, "for my daughter has more than she can ever use."
Dorothy looked at her in silence. Then it was well indeed to have been lost and found, for the sake of this dear girl!
"This is our camp," said Dorothy, as they reached it.