"I must go," answered Phil regretfully. "My friends will be waiting
for me up the beach, and they will not know where to find me. Won't
you come to see me and my friends? We are spending our holiday on a
houseboat not very far from here. We would love to have you come."

"I am not allowed to leave the island or to go among people," the girl
replied. "My father says I have no sense. So, if I wander away, or
talk to strangers, people will think that I am crazy and shut me up in
some dreadful, dark place."

Tears of sympathy rose to Phyllis's eyes. She wished Madge and the
other girls were with her. It was too dreadful to think of this lovely
creature frightened into submission by her cruel father. "We will come
to see you, then," she said gently. "And I will bring you something to
keep your head from aching. My father is a physician, and he will tell
me what I must give you. I will bring my friends to the island with
me. Whenever you can get away, come to this tent and we will try to
find you. We shall have good times together, and some day we may be
able to help you. You know how to write, don't you? Then, if you are
ever in trouble or danger, leave a note under this old piece of carpet.
Now good-bye."

The girl stood in the door of her tent to watch Phyllis on her way.
She stared intently after her until her visitor turned the curve of the
beach and was lost to view, then, leaning her head against the side of
the tent, she burst forth into low, despairing sobs.