"It seems awfully queer to me," remarked Bess, sitting in the Charlton Street parlor one afternoon in May, reading a recently received letter with a foreign postmark, "that Margaret says absolutely nothing at all, lately, about whether they've done any work in hunting up clues to the sapphire signet mystery!"

"Neither does Corinne," added Jess, looking over a similarly marked letter that she held. "They've neither one mentioned the subject since they sent up that snap-shot of the Tobacco Rocks some weeks ago. Corinne said then that they'd driven to see them one day, and she had 'snapped' them for our special benefit, because Alexander had discovered that it was from there the stolen gunpowder was shipped. I don't think they had much, if anything, to do with our affair, so I wasn't so much interested in them. I never felt at all convinced that those two happenings had any connection whatever."

"Nor I, either!" agreed Bess. "I wonder whether they have looked up anything about Alison, or whether they've been having such a good time that they've forgotten it completely! My! but I envy them! Here we are in this mussy, foggy, chilly, wretched city,—grubbing along at high, without even time to have a game of basket-ball, lately! And listen to what Margaret says of their surroundings:

"'You never saw such blue, blue water in your life! And the weather's so warm that Corinne and her father have been in bathing several times! I never saw any one swim before! Corinne swims beautifully! It is so lovely in this place that I'm sure Heaven couldn't be any more beautiful. I begin to feel so much stronger! I'm out every day and all of the day! Isn't that wonderful—for me! Mr. Cameron says he feels like a new being, too. We are going to stay two weeks longer, because it's doing us all so much good.'"

"Bless her heart!" cried Jess. "I'm just the gladdest girl that ever was because she could go and is getting on so well. Do you know, I believe she'd have died pretty soon if she'd kept on as she was the last of the winter! I felt perfectly certain then, that she wasn't going to live, though I never told a soul! I was absolutely in despair about her!"

"Same here!" echoed Bess. "I was going through some mental tortures, too, but I wasn't bothering any one else with them! Corinne and her father just saved Margaret's life, I believe. But here's something queer in her letter! I just came to it. She ends by saying:

"'We have two surprises for you, but you are not to know a thing about them till we get home! Oh, I can just see you wiggling with impatience to know what they are! But it's useless for you to beg; not a word will we whisper till we land in America!'

"Now what do you make of that?" demanded the bewildered Bess.

The day came at last, when the travelers were expected to land once more on their native shores. To the twins it had seemed an interminable age—the more so since the intended absence of a month had lengthened itself to ten long weeks. It had taken longer to restore Mr. Cameron's health than he had imagined, and, besides, Margaret had improved so perceptibly that they decided to stretch the time of the trip to the limit.

They had sailed away on a stormy day in March. They were expected back on the rarest kind of a day in June, and the entire Charlton Street household was assembled at the pier to meet the incoming steamer. This had been the request of Mr. Cameron himself, who had written to Mrs. Bronson that, for a sufficient reason, he wished every one of them to be there, including Sarah.

It was four o'clock on a golden afternoon when the Bermudian came steaming slowly up the river, picking her stately course among the heavy ferry-boats and darting tugs that blocked the way. Alexander, from a perilous perch on one end of the pier, announced its coming with a whooping and a waving of his cap, at which Sarah muttered awful remarks, sounding like "Let him drown if he falls over—the young spalpeen!" With beating hearts they scanned the decks as the vessel drew close to the side, and the twins quickly picked out Corinne and her father waving from the side. But of Margaret they could discern not a sign, and an awful dread seized them that she must be too ill to be with the others.

By a special permit, obtained through Mr. Cameron, they had been admitted within the custom-house lines to the very gangway entrance itself. After maddening delays the vessel was at last made fast, the gangways adjusted, and the throngs began to come ashore. It was toward the last that the ones they were waiting for so anxiously appeared at the top, and then it was only Corinne and her father and aunt who came down.

"But, oh! where is Margaret?" cried Bess, as Corinne rushed to embrace her. "Why isn't she with you?"

"Oh, she'll be along in a minute!" announced Corinne, unconcernedly. Then suddenly she turned, and said quietly:

"Look!"

They turned at her command, and glanced upward expecting to see their sister in her usual wheel-chair. Instead, there at the top of the gangway—stood Margaret, rosy, plump, and browned by the sun! And under her arms were a pair of crutches! When she saw her own family below, she blew them a kiss, adjusted her crutches, and proceeded down the gangway alone, haltingly, it is true, but refusing the assistance of the anxious steward who hovered behind her!

To the members of her family, who never in all their lives had beheld her on her feet, the sight was almost overwhelming. The twins and their mother were actually too stunned to speak, and Alexander relieved himself only by a low-muttered, "Can you beat it!"—his favorite expression of surprise. But it was Sarah who did the most astonishing thing. She tore up the gangway, snatched Margaret when she was but half-way down, and bore her back, crutches and all, to the group below, crying:

"Me little darlint! It's true! It's true! I didn't believe it!"

The Charlton Street house was a scene that night of such festivity and rejoicing as it had probably never known before in all its history. Corinne and her father and aunt had accompanied the Bronsons home, and stayed to a feast that Sarah had evolved in some sudden and mysterious manner, for she had been away from the house all of the afternoon. But Sarah was an adept at such bits of necromancy. Then, when the older folks were still talking hard and fast, the five young people drew apart by themselves, and Jess said:

"Now, for goodness' sake, explain the whole business again! My brain is so bewildered I can't seem to understand it all yet!"

It was Corinne who tried to straighten out the tangle. She told how, before they started on their trip, her father had suddenly become possessed with the idea that perhaps something could be done to help Margaret's trouble if only the right physician could be found. It happened that he was personally acquainted with a doctor famous for his success in this very kind of case and who also usually spent a few weeks at that season of the year in Bermuda. If Margaret could be helped by any one in the world, Mr. Cameron felt sure it would be by this surgeon. So he privately made up his mind that the famous specialist should be consulted as soon as they got there. But of this he said not a word to any one, lest it should only be a cause of disappointment in case no good was accomplished.

Corinne laughed, however, when she said there was one exception to this. On the night when Sarah had issued her awful ultimatum, Mr. Cameron made up his mind that the only way to influence her was to tell her, privately, his hopes for Margaret. This he did, and it had the remarkable effect that had so bewildered them. This, also, was the reason why Sarah seemed the least surprised and had said such strange things that day at the pier.

The doctor had been consulted soon after they reached Bermuda and when Margaret had grown a little stronger. His verdict was that with a certain kind of treatment there was a slight hope that she might some day recover the use of her limbs. This treatment she had had during the whole of their stay, with the wonderful result that, two weeks before their return, Margaret took her first steps with the crutches. The specialist himself was returning to New York shortly and would continue his work with her. He was now almost positive that she might, in the course of time, even discard her crutches and walk alone, on her two feet, unassisted, like the rest of ordinary humanity. It was a treat to watch the beaming happiness on Margaret's face while Corinne rehearsed this tale. It spoke more eloquently than any words she could have uttered.

"Well, that's your big surprise!" sighed Bess, contentedly. "And it certainly is a monster one! Now what's the other? You know you wrote that there were two!"

"The other's almost as big!" exclaimed Margaret, her eyes snapping with eagerness. "We've found out the whole history of Alison, and solved every bit of the mystery!"

"No!" cried three of the listeners in astonishment. "Honestly? Tell us—right away! We thought you'd forgotten all about it!"

"No," said Margaret, "I'm not going to tell you just now. To-morrow we'll have a big old meeting of the Antiquarian Club, and we'll give the entire account then! Not a minute before!"

"But did you find the owner of the sapphire signet?" they clamored.

And to this, also, the provoking Margaret would only lay her finger on her lips, and smile, and murmur, "To-morrow!"