“And you’ve been all alone? Oh, Patty, I’m so sorry! Do forgive me!”
“Not at all, you sleepy child. It’s all right, I see lights outside already. Here, put on your hat.”
Flo rose and yawned, as she took her hat from Patty. They furbished up their toilets a bit, and soon were all ready to leave the train. Patty pushed the curtain up, and gazed out of the window.
“The lights are growing thicker now,” she said; “we’re almost in. I should think the porter would wake father up by this time. Well, I’m very sure nothing has happened to him.”
Patty’s decided statement gave Flo a clue that Patty was secretly afraid something had happened to her father, and as Flo had had such a fear all the time, she, too, stoutly denied it.
“Of course not! Nothing could happen to him. He’s just asleep, as I was. I don’t see how you got me awake at all. Snippy has to throw cold water in my face to do it.”
The train drew into the great station. There were many lights, but not many people about, which was doubtless because of the lateness of the hour.
The guard threw open the door of their compartment, and the two girls got out. Patty thought the guard looked at them a little curiously, and supposing he was desirous of a fee, she gave him some coins. He bowed, and still hovered near them.
“Where is the smoking-car?” asked Patty, but the guard knew not the strange word, and only shook his head.
“Flo,” said Patty, looking about, “we’d better stand right here. When father gets out of his car, he’ll come here for us. But didn’t you think Venice had water streets? These are ordinary roads. And I see lots of omnibuses, but no gondolas.”