“Why,” she wrinkled up her nose at Nan, as she spoke, “are boys in general so dumb? Oh, Walter’s all right, but all the rest are just like bumps on a log.”
“No, they aren’t,” Nan denied. “Don’t you remember last night when they were all out there below our balconies? You didn’t think they were bumps on a log then, did you?”
Bess shook her head and her eyes shone. “No, that was grand,” she said. “But today, they just don’t do anything.”
“Maybe they think that we’re neglecting them?” Nan suggested.
“Well, let them,” Bess flounced away from Nan and into the house.
Nan looked bewilderedly after her. “What can be wrong with Bess,” she asked herself and then did go after her camera. If Bess didn’t want any pictures of the visitors, she did.
A few hours later, after an afternoon siesta and a long cool refreshing drink of fruit juices beneath the palms of the courtyard, everyone felt better. Alice’s eyes were red and swollen with crying, but she made an appearance. Adair MacKenzie was even more terse than usual, but he was kinder too. And Bess who had but three hours before found the boys so disagreeable now was surrounded by them. She was telling them in low tones of the donkey episode of the day before.
It was all very cheerful and pleasant despite the emptiness that was felt because of Walker’s absence. However, no one mentioned his name. In fact, he might have remained away from the hacienda, away from Alice, indefinitely, if it hadn’t been for Adair himself, Adair and Nan.
“Well, well, girls, how do you like your new home now?” Adair MacKenzie was feeling somewhat talkative after his long refreshing drink of loganberry juice. “A pretty nice place, isn’t it?” He looked about himself with a satisfied sort of appreciation. Adair MacKenzie for all of his Scotch blood and his leanings toward economy really liked the good things of life. This southern home pleased him.
“It’s grand, Cousin Adair,” Nan answered for them all. “Perfectly grand. There’s only one thing that’s lacking.”