“Well, I’ll let her be,” thought Patty, unselfishly. “She couldn’t help any, and I don’t know that there’s anything to be helped. I suppose there’s nothing wrong. What could be? Father’s asleep in the smoking-car, and Flo’s asleep here, so I may as well sit patiently till we reach Venice, and then they’ll have to wake up, whether they want to or not.”
A guard came through the corridor, and looked in at the compartment door.
He said something in Italian, which Patty couldn’t understand. But she showed him her watch, and said “Venice? stazione? when?”
She pointed to the hands, and partly comprehending, the guard took out his own watch and indicated that they would reach the stazione (station) at quarter to twelve.
“Train late?” said Patty, smiling, and still partly understanding, the guard said, “Si, signorina,” bowed, and went away.
A little cheered at having had some one to speak to, even if for a most unsatisfactory conversation, Patty sat down again to wait. Her heart was quite light now, for it was nearly time to reach Venice, and then all would be well. At half-past eleven she wakened Flo.
“Get up, girlie,” she cried. “We’re almost to Venice, and you must tidy your hair and put your hat on.”
Flo sat up, wide awake all at once. “Where’s your father?” she said.
“He hasn’t come back,” said Patty, feeling somehow guilty under Flo’s accusing glance, but determined to stand up for her father. “He must have fallen asleep, just as you did. I tried twice to wake you, but you slept like a log.”