“Oh, Patty!” said Flo, trembling, as she grasped Patty’s hand. They were all alone in the omnibus, and in two minutes it was entering the driveway of the hotel.
“Be careful, now,” said Patty, still sternly. “We’re not out of the woods yet,—and if you cry or look distressed you’ll spoil all I’m trying to do, and I’ll not answer for the consequences. Now, brace up!”
Flo braced up, and as they alighted from the omnibus, Patty motioned for the porter to bring the bags and wraps.
She went directly to the desk, where the night attendant was.
“You speak English, of course?” she said.
“Yes, mademoiselle.”
“We have had an accident,—a misfortune. My friend and myself must stay here to-night. I wish to engage three communicating rooms, and I wish also the services of a maid,—I prefer an elderly woman,—who will remain with us through the night and will occupy the third room.”
“Yes, mademoiselle.” The man looked astonished, but Patty’s quiet dignity, and Flo’s impassive English stolidity, gave them an air of authority, which he was disinclined to ignore.
“Our large luggage was left on the train, owing to the—accident,” went on Patty. “I will pay you fifty francs in advance and will settle the rest of the bill to-morrow. For the present it is imperative that we go to our rooms at once.”
“Yes, mademoiselle,” repeated the bewildered man. He was accustomed to American guests, but this was a new type.