Mrs. Atherton hurriedly explained. "This is Miss Patricia Everett, the daughter of the lady of whom I was speaking. Perhaps----" she hesitated. She was thinking rapidly--something, of course, must be done with the child! "This might solve our problem--until you return and wish to make other arrangements."
"Oh please bring her," cried Patricia in quite her natural manner. "I can't go back to school because of the measles there and I'd lose my hair and I am dreadfully lonesome, and I should love a baby! We'll go home and I'll send Watkins after Daddy and then we'll tell him."
It sounded so logical that even Mrs. Atherton nodded approvingly.
"Where is she?" asked Patricia, looking around the room as though some corner might conceal a bundle that would prove to be the little war-orphan.
"I left her outside, in the taxi. I wanted to find out what could be done."
"Well, let's hurry!" commanded Patricia, turning toward the door. "I know Daddy'll say yes, for you see my mother and sister have ever so many orphans and this will be mine and Daddy's." She was running eagerly ahead of Capt. Allan out of the door and down the long flight of steps.
"Can she walk yet?" she whispered excitedly.
"I should say so!" he laughed, throwing open the door of the taxicab.
And within Patricia beheld staring gravely at her from a corner of the automobile, her small hands clasped tightly in her lap, her pale face framed by a wealth of golden hair that hung in soft curls over her shabby coat--not the war-orphan she had pictured, but a little girl of her own age!
"Miss Renée LaDue," the Captain said with a sweeping gesture. "And this young lady----" he hesitated a moment, as though the name Mrs. Atherton had spoken had slipped his mind.