“How do you know where it is?” questioned Arabella.
Patricia looked very important.
“I know, because I do know,” she said.
Arabella looked into this corner, and peeped into that, and between them they managed to tip over some small pots of valuable plants, but the music and laughter in the drawing-room prevented any sounds in the conservatory from being heard. At last Arabella was disgusted.
“I don't believe there's two fountains,” she said.
“Then I'll show you,” said Patricia, “and I'll tell you how I know. Just see here,” and she pointed to the jet of water which flew high in air, letting fall a veil of mist and spray.
“That's where the butler turns the water on to set the fountain playing. I was in here once when I saw him turn that little thing round, and I saw the water fly right up in a minute.”
Arabella watched Patricia closely.
“But where's the other fountain?” she asked impatiently.
“Oh, you'll see in a second. Come over here,” Patricia said, laughing softly.