“I think so, too,” said Nan, taking her husband’s hand, “and, Mrs. Postlethwaite, while I sympathise with you regarding Flo, you must also realise what we are suffering regarding Patty; and though you are Flo’s guardian and governess,—yet Patty is our daughter.”
Snippy’s sense of justice came to her rescue, and she said, more quietly:
“Forgive me, Mr. Fairfield; I was so shocked and upset at Miss Flo’s disappearance, I quite overlooked Miss Patty. I won’t admit that you are in a worse case than I, for I am responsible to Miss Flo’s mother, while Miss Patty is your own child. But I appreciate the situation, and we will work together to do all we can to get the children back as soon as possible.”
“That’s the sensible Snippy that you are!” said Mr. Fairfield, as he heartily clasped her hand; “but, alas! I cannot think of anything to do. It doesn’t seem right to refer the case to the police, as I can’t help thinking the girls are safe somewhere with the Italian lady and gentleman, and if I know my Patty, she’ll telegraph me as soon as she can. Thank Heaven she knows our Venice address. Hard as it is, I think the only thing we can do now is to wait until morning.”
The others agreed to this, and so they all went to bed, though not to sleep.
CHAPTER XVIII
VENICE AT LAST
VERY early the next morning, Snippy, who had fallen into a light doze, was awakened by a tapping at her door.
Hastily flinging on her dressing-gown, she opened the door to see Mr. Fairfield standing there with a smiling face that betokened good news. He waved a telegram at her, and exclaimed: “The girls are all right, Snippy. We may congratulate each other!”
“Thank Heaven!” cried the delighted woman, and then her eyes eagerly devoured the telegram Patty had sent.