"He has known her all his life. She has worked hard, generally sacrificing herself to others and always on hand to help some one in trouble, never sparing herself, and working up to the very limit of her strength, so that when at last she became unable to support herself it seemed only justice that she should be provided for. She is very comfortable, you see."
"Dear old thing. I should think she did deserve some sort of haven. I am afraid, Lillian, that such a reward of virtue would never be mine. I am such a selfish beast."
"Why, Nita Beltrán, how can you say so?"
"I am. I was brought up that way and if I didn't have such a good and sensible mother I should probably be worse than I am. I do think I have improved a little, but there is room for much greater."
"Who knows at last what a life may show?" quoted Lillian.
There was a chatter of high-strained voices in the garden when the two girls reached Primrose Cottage. "Who can it be?" exclaimed Lillian. "It doesn't sound familiar."
They hastened their steps, were tumultously greeted by the two dogs, and went forward to find gathered around the tea table, Mrs. Manning, Mrs. Beltrán and the two Perlitas, the latter in astonishingly youthful hats and as jaunty as ever, their accent more pronounced and their fripperies increased since they left Spain.
"We just had to come and see you," declared Miss Harriet after embracing Anita effusively. "We're going to sail just as soon as we can get passage. Our banker has scared us almost to death, and what we want to do is to get back home just as quick as ever we can."
"Of course you'll be going, too," spoke up Miss Agatha, "and we thought how nice it would be if we could all go over together. The steamers are so crowded, they tell us, and we thought if there had to be four in a stateroom it would be just fine if we could share it together, so much nicer that to have perfect strangers."
"It was most kind of you to think of us," responded Mrs. Beltrán, "but we are not thinking of a return as yet."