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.

The Judge smiled back at her. It was good to see her happy once more.

The old professor had found his way into the hearts of the Judge and
his wife. He had a charm about him. Most people immediately liked
him, and his childlike qualities brought out a protective feeling in
others. And everybody from Tang and his boys to the Judge were eagerly
watching a chance to do him a favor.

And without trying to do it, the professor had gained the Judge's
interest in the Indian excavations. Not that the Judge was interested
in Indian relics in themselves, but the professor had a way of passing
on his enthusiasms to others.

Kit's mother was hovering about the sick woman, eager to serve,
suggesting all sorts of things that might help her. One could see that
already Mrs. Breckenridge was looking toward the mountain woman for
advice.

"They are going to be good friends, those two," whispered Kit to Bet as
she watched them. "Isn't it good!"

"Who could help being friends with your mother, Kit? I love her
already," returned Bet a little wistfully. While Colonel Baxter was
doing his best to make up to his daughter for the loss of her mother,
it couldn't entirely satisfy her when she saw other girls being cared
for.

Suddenly footsteps were