“Dirty? Of course, it is. Haven’t you been asleep? Isn’t it morning? Doesn’t everybody need to freshen themselves after sleeping? I don’t think you’re really awake yet.”
“Arrah musha! But I’m more nor wide awake enough than to be lettin’ the likes o’ yourself do such a service for the poor lad from Connemara. Och! the purty thackeen!”
Fortunately the broken arm was not the right one, therefore Dennis could do most needful things for himself and soon grew so “handy with one hand” that he also did much for the others.
All during their happy and simple breakfast which they ate by the spring, Carlos observed his sister’s eyes continually roving over the ground and, finally, he asked:
“For what are you looking, girlie? Have you lost anything?”
“Yes, and no. I’m looking for something I thought I saw, last night. Something about which old Paula told me. I was sure I saw it—one—just after she went away; but, I don’t see it now, and maybe I only dreamed it.”
“Well, if you’ve finished breakfast we must be off. I’m afraid the Burnhams will think we are lost, for good.”
“Maybe we were!” said Carlota, mysteriously.
“What do you mean?”
“You said ‘lost for good.’ It may prove the best kind of good to them and everybody.”