Dare was in it for one. Her head, from which the hat had fallen off, rested on the gunwale; her eyes were closed in sleep; and though the position must have been very uncomfortable, her lips were parted in a half-smile. On her lap rested the head of another girl, whom Mrs. Peters did not know, but who was also sleeping, while a boy reposed in the bow. What did it all mean? With an unusual display of feeling, Mrs. Peters leaned over and kissed Dare.
The girl opened her eyes.
"Is it time to get up?" she asked, dreamily.
"I should think it was," said Mrs. Peters, briskly. "And what I want to know is how you got here."
Dare looked around in bewildered surprise. "Why, we must have drifted," she exclaimed. "We were miles away from here last night. Mollie dear," she cried, leaning over and kissing the head that rested in her lap, "it's morning, and we've got home."
Mollie sprang up, rubbing her eyes. "Why did you let me sleep so long?" she cried, penitently. "I might have helped you with the sail."
Dare laughed. "I've been asleep myself all night," she confessed, "and the dory found its own way home."
Nobody could ever understand by what peculiar conjunction of wind and current the little boat had been carried on through the darkness to the strip of sandy beach that formed its haven. "It wouldn't happen once in a million times," Captain Peters exclaimed, when he was told the story; while Mrs. Peters declared, with equal emphasis, that no one could make her believe that it wasn't a providence. As for Mollie's father and mother, they didn't care how it happened, so long as Mollie was safe; and when they had satisfied themselves as to that, they began to look about for ways in which to express their gratitude to Dare. And though Dare declares that she does not want any thanks, and that it is pleasure enough for her to know Mollie, it is quite likely that something will be done for her benefit. For one thing, she is going to spend next winter with Mollie, and go to school in New York—a prospect which delights Mollie not less than it does Dare. "Only I'm afraid," Mollie remarks, apprehensively, when they are discussing the arrangement, "that Tom won't be civil."
And Dare, to whom Tom has already shown several awkward attentions, answers, with a smile and a blush: "Oh, Tom is such a goose! But I think he'll be civil, dear."