Then he hurried on to say that no one on the yacht had been injured by the collision, but they were hours in reaching their dock. He said that they (Polly and Tom) were not missed at first, and not until conditions had calmed down somewhat, did Eleanor call for Polly. Then it was found that neither Tom nor Polly were to be found.
"It was Eleanor who remembered seeing us promenade along the side where the rail was detachable, and it was Eleanor who said we must have been thrown out where the steps came up. So the captain was taken to task for having such a careless man on board, and both the man and the captain were discharged."
"Poor man--it wasn't his fault!" sighed Polly.
"Well, if you hadn't recovered, I'd have sent him to jail for life, because it was criminal negligence to leave that rail open as it was!" was Tom's threatening reply.
"I'm glad there is no cause for such harsh treatment," responded Polly.
Tom gazed, with his soul in his eyes, as he breathed fervently: "You're not half as glad as I am, darling!"
Polly sprang away at that, and ran to the window, saying: "Don't you think we might start for the City? Mrs. Hall went to fetch a hat and wrap for me and she ought to be back by this time."
Never was maiden welcomed so enthusiastically and so fervently, as Polly Brewster, that morning when she stepped from the launch to the sea-wall at Battery Park. Her father and mother vied with each other in embracing and kissing her, while the tears of happiness streamed from their eyes; John and Anne hovered beside them, watching every dear feature of Polly's face. Eleanor stood holding fast to her best friend's skirt, as if that could keep her forever near her.
The members in the "Delegation of Welcome," acted as if they had been imbibing some intoxicating stimulant. Such happy laughter, and vehement demonstrations of joy and love because Polly was with them again, spoke louder than words that they had all thought she was drowned. Tom found that little fuss was made over him in the first exuberant greetings, but he came in for his share after the doctor had concluded his story about the valiant young rescuer.
"Now, Mr. Brewster, you pay attention to me," remarked the physician, when he was ready to depart on the launch: "You take your daughter home, at once, and put her to bed for the rest of the day, to spare her any nervous reaction. Then, if she is all right tomorrow, you may allow her to receive a caller, or two--no more for the time being, or you will have her break down."