Curtis is very fond of her. She does not wish Madge to leave her."
Miss Jones looked so mysterious that the girls regarded her curiously.
"I think it is a good thing for Madge and for Mrs. Curtis to spend a
few days together. Mrs. Curtis is lonely and needs good company,"
added Miss Jones.

"So do we," murmured Phil, with a rueful laugh. "We need Madge as much
as Mrs. Curtis does."

After the girls had left her, Madge lay back luxuriously among her
linen pillows. She was looking very lovely in a pale pink silk tea
gown Mrs. Curtis had insisted on her wearing, for Madge had arrived at
the hotel with no clothes other than the wet garments she had on when
rescued from the waves. Her fine clothes occupied very little of her
thoughts, however. She had something of far greater import on her mind.

The time had come to tell Mrs. Curtis that she must go back to the
houseboat. She was not sorry to go; she was only sorry to leave her
new friends. During her stay at the hotel Mrs. Curtis had treated
Madge as though she were her own daughter. The imaginative young girl
was completely fascinated with the beautiful, white-haired woman, whose
sad face seemed to indicate that she had suffered some tragedy in her
life. While Madge lay thinking of the most courteous way in which to
announce that she must return to the "Merry Maid" a light knock sounded
on her door. Tom's mother came softly into the room, gowned in an
exquisite afternoon costume of violet organdie and fine lace, which was
very becoming to her white hair and youthful face.

"Are you awake, Madge?" were her first words. "How do you feel?"