“Mm—­mm!” The soft but eloquent sound came from Sally’s closed lips when she had taken her first taste of a sandwich of unknown but delicious compound.  “Was ever anything so good?  Max, boy, please try one, quick!  What is this perfect drink, Joey?—­how it does go to the spot!  Oh, if you are all half as happy as Sally Lunn, you don’t know how to express it!”

“We’re even happier,” said Josephine, laughing softly, “for it seems at last as if we have Sally Lunn back.”

Jarvis had hard work to keep his own pleasure properly subdued.  He sat just across the table from Max, and the light from two candles shone revealingly into his satisfied face.  He put on his goggles to screen his eyes, hoping that they might assist in concealing his content.  Until Max gave in and agreed to it all, it would never do to let anybody but Sally crow with delight.

Mrs. Burnside insisted on an early bedtime for Sally, and the convalescent reluctantly admitted that not even joy was wholly sustaining to such weakness of limb as was still hers.  So she submitted, with a sigh of appreciation, to being tucked away in the bed in the southeast enclosure of the tent, and soon was lying peacefully there, watching through her open tent-flap the moonlight as it lay on the open lawn, beyond the vista of trees.  The air was now stirring refreshingly through the grove, and Sally, under the thinnest of light summer blankets, was absolutely comfortable and restful, as she had not been for many weary nights.

In the adjoining room, Max was asleep in two minutes after he had stretched himself upon his cot.  Outside, by the embers of the camp fire, Jarvis and Josephine exchanged a brief conversation.

“Is he taking it worse or better than you expected?” Josephine asked, in the lowest of whispers.

“He took it like the bumptious idiot he can be, at first.  He’s a trifle calmer now.  I’m hoping by morning he’ll be reasonable.”

“Don’t you think he must see the beauty of it when he looks at Sally?”

“One would think so.  I suppose we mustn’t blame him too much, for he certainly is worn out with work in this heat, and isn’t himself.  If he’ll only be sensible, the staying here will do him as much good as it will Sally.  She is pleased isn’t she?”

“Pleased doesn’t express it.  But she thinks it’s all my doing.”

“Don’t let her think anything else.  It was your suggestion, and you’ve done half the work.”

“It was Mr. Ferry’s suggestion.  Did you know he put up that rustic bench out there this afternoon?  Made it out of the tree he chopped down.”

“I didn’t stop to wonder how it came there.  I wonder if Max noticed it?  I suppose he will think that was more of our impudence.  It was kind of Ferry, though.  He’ll be a good neighbour for them.”

“Oh, Jarvis, how I wish we could all stay here, too!”

Her brother gave vent to a curious little ejaculation, whether of agreement or dissent she could not tell.  “Of course we can’t,” he said shortly.