"I don't think much of that plan," declared Patty; "New York is good enough for me, as a permanent residence. But I do want to do somethink in keeping with the atmosphere of this place. If there's a dungeon keep on the premises, I think I'll throw you two girls into it, after having first bound you in chains."
"You mean a donjon keep, Patty," said Elise; "you're so careless with your mediaeval diction."
A noise in the hall, as of an arrival, startled the girls, and rising impulsively, they flew out to see what it was all about.
To their astonishment, they found the footmen holding open the great front doors, while three stalwart young men entered.
The middle one, who was partly supported by the other two, had his arm in a sling, and as he was undoubtedly a Frenchman, the girls were sure at once that he was no other than the worshipful Henri.
At sight of the three astonished girls the three young men looked equally amazed, and whipping off their caps, they made profound bows to the strangers.
It was a comical situation, for doubtless Henri had expected to see his aunt, and was instead confronted by three unmistakably American misses.
Of the six, quick-witted Patty grasped the situation first.
"You are Monsieur Henri Labesse, is it not so?" she said, advancing toward the broken-armed one.
In her haste and bewilderment, Patty spoke in English, forgetting that the young man might not understand her native tongue.