s not Mollie at all. Her name is
Madeleine. Her memory has come back to her. She thinks your mother is
her mother. And Mrs. Curtis called her daughter!"

The cabin door opened. Mrs. Curtis walked out, moving like a woman in
a dream. "Don't speak loudly," she said. "Madeleine has gone to
sleep." She crossed over to Tom. "Tom," she explained quietly, "the
girls have found your sister after twelve years; my baby is a young
woman."

Tom put his arm about his mother. Mrs. Curtis spoke rapidly now, as
though she feared her voice would fail her. "Miss Jones, years ago my
little daughter, who was ten years old, fell from our steam yacht. She
had been left alone by her nurse for a few minutes. When the woman
came back the child was not to be found. No one saw or heard her fall
overboard. The boat was searched, but Madeleine had disappeared. We
were off the coast of Florida. For months and months we searched for
my daughter's body. We offered everything we had in the world for news
of her. No word came. I used to think she would come back to me.
Long ago I gave up hope. Now, when I saw this poor Mollie, I thought I
recognized my child, and when she opened her eyes her memory returned
to her. She knew I was her mother, in spite of my white hair. I think
it is because she now remembers nothing of her unhappy past. She
thinks she was hurt only a short time ago. She must not learn the
truth until she is stronger. Will you keep me here with you until I
can take my daughter home?"

Mrs. Curtis staggered slightly and grew very white. It was Madge who
sprang to her side and led her to a chair. "You have found what you
want most in the world," she whispered, "I am so glad for your sake."

CHAPTER XXIV

FAREWELL TO THE MERRY MAID

"Miss Jenny Ann, I can't get all these things packed in this barrel,"
protested Madge despairingly. "I don't see how they ever got in here
before."

Miss Jenny Ann laughed from the depths of a large box, where she was
folding sheets and placing them in neat piles. "Remember, we have
added a number of tin pans to our store since we came aboard the
houseboat. But don't worry, dear. We will get all the belongings
packed in time."

"Isn't it too awful that the houseboat has to be left to its poor dear
self for the rest of the summer? Just think, we have had over six
weeks' holiday, and, if it weren't for Madeleine, it would seem like
six days."

"I have something to