Madge Mortons Secret | Page 2

at her book for another
stolen moment and came face to face with her cousin. Although it was
not yet midday, Eleanor Butler had on a white company frock and her
hair had been freshly braided. Madge did not see her cousin at first.
Nellie eyed her sympathetically, but at the same time her face wore an
expression of disapproval. "Where have you been, Madge?" she
demanded. "You've gone and done it this time, I can tell you; I have
been looking for you for more than an hour."
"Sorry, Coz," returned Madge lightly. "Did Aunt Sue want me? I have
been reading in the orchard. But why are you dressed so bravely? We
can't be having a party at this early hour of the day."
Nellie looked serious. "We have not had a party," she returned, "but we
have had some visitors. We had iced tea and cakes on the front porch,
too."
"Lucky me, to have escaped the company, Eleanor. It is much too
warm for morning callers, even if it is September," declared Madge
indifferently. "I'll wager that they talked gossip and bored you and
Auntie dreadfully."

"They did no such thing," replied Eleanor, nettled by her cousin's
bantering tone. "If you'll stop talking a minute, I'll tell you who our
visitors were. You'd never be able to guess in a thousand years. Our old
friends, Mrs. Curtis and Tom, have been to 'Forest House' to see us.
They were passing through the town on their way to Richmond and
stopped over between trains."
"Take me to them, take me to them!" cried Madge, setting off for the
house on a run, closing the orchard gate behind her with a force that
caused it to shut with a resounding bang.
Nellie followed her tempestuous relative, calling, "You can't see them.
That is just the trouble. Mrs. Curtis and Tom drove away about a
quarter of an hour ago. I am so sorry, but I did look for you everywhere;
so did Pompey. We called and called you. Mrs. Curtis and Tom were
dreadfully disappointed. They were afraid to wait any longer for fear
they would miss their train. They left a great deal of love for you. Mrs.
Curtis was charmed with 'Forest House.' You may see them soon again.
Mrs. Curtis wants us----"
"Oh, I am so sorry I missed them," lamented Madge. "When does Mrs.
Curtis's train go?"
"At one o'clock," answered Eleanor. "Mother wished them to stay to
luncheon, but they had hired such a slow old horse at the station that
they thought it wisest to leave in time."
"And they have been on the way only a quarter of an hour?" questioned
Madge. "I know what I am going to do: I am going to ride Dixie down
to the station. I know I can overtake Tom and Mrs. Curtis before their
train leaves the station. I may be able to get just a peep at them. Here,
take my book, please, Nellie. Make it all right with Uncle William and
Aunt Sue. I am sure to be late for luncheon." Madge was off across the
fields, running as though her life depended on it.
Readers of "MADGE MORTON, CAPTAIN OF THE 'MERRY
MAID'" already know the story of how four girls, with more
enthusiasm than money, found and transformed a dilapidated old canal

boat into the pretty floating summer home which they christened the
"Merry Maid" and launched on a quiet shore of Chesapeake Bay.
Their subsequent meeting with a Mrs. Curtis and her son, Tom, persons
of wealth and social position, who were summering at one of the
fashionable hotels along the shore of the bay, prepared the way for a
series of eventful happenings in which the crew of the "Merry Maid"
amply proved their mettle.
It was through the efforts of Madge Morton and Phyllis Alden that a
young woman was rescued from the clutches of a family of rough and
uncouth fisher folk, and taken aboard the "Merry Maid," where it
developed that she was none other than the daughter of Mrs. Curtis
who had been lost at sea twelve years previously.
After a succession of happy weeks on the houseboat, the girls repaired
to their various homes to spend the remainder of their vacations with
their families. They had promised Mrs. Curtis, however, that for two
weeks before returning to school they would be her guests on their own
houseboat, which she had arranged to have removed from Pleasure Bay,
where it still lay, to a spot opposite Old Point Comfort, where she and
her son and daughter were spending a few weeks before returning to
New York City.
Madge knew without being told that the time for their happy holiday
had come. Still, it was not of