“So kind! I remember—it was the mist. Was—Ron—safe?”
“Yes, darling, quite safe. He and Mr Elgood arrived at the cottage very soon after you, and were so thankful to find you there.”
“Is—is everybody well?”
Again that faint flush showed on the cheeks; but Edie was mercifully blind, and answered with direct simplicity—
“Every one, dear, and you are going to be quite well, too. You must not talk any more just now, for you are rather a weak little girl still. Drink this cup of milk, and roll over, and have another nap. It is good to see you sleeping quietly and peacefully again. There! Shut your eyes, like a good girl!”
Then once more Margot floated off into unconsciousness; but this time it was the blessed, health-restoring unconsciousness of sleep, such sleep as she had not known for days past, and from which she awoke with rested body and clearer brain.
When the dear father came in to kiss and greet her, a thin white hand crept up to stroke his hair, and pull his ear in the way he loved, whereupon he blinked away tears of thankfulness, and essayed to be fierce and reproachful.
“So you couldn’t be satisfied until you had dragged the whole family after you, to the ends of the earth! There’s no pleasing some people. This is my reward for being such a fool as to think you could take care of yourself!”
“Ducky Doodles!” murmured Margot fondly. As of yore, she manifested not the faintest alarm at his pretence of severity, but twitched his ear with complacent composure, and once more Mr Vane blinked and swallowed a lump in his throat. There had been hours during those last days when he had feared that he might never again hear himself called “Ducky Doodles,” and what a sad grey world that would have meant!
Then came Ron, a little embarrassed, as was natural in a lad of his years, but truly loving and tender all the same, and Margot’s brown eyes searched his face with wistful questioning.