“‘Sleep, sweetly sleep,’ is going to be mine,” yawned Eleanor. “I’m going to take a nap.”
“I’d like to go down to the orange groves.” Patsy beamed significantly upon Beatrice. “I’m not supposed to trail around this vast tract of terrestrial territory alone. If some one will kindly volunteer——”
“I’ll take pity on you,” laughed Bee. “Come on. While we’re about it we might as well lug a basket along and fill it with oranges. ‘Try to be useful as well as ornamental.’ That’s my motto.”
“Mine is: ‘Be thankful for small favors,’” retaliated Patsy with an impish grin. “Allow me to escort you to the kitchen for the basket. Good-bye, Perry children. We’ll see you later.”
Patsy offered her arm to Bee with an extravagant flourish and the two girls left the room laughing. Mabel promptly made a bee-line for the sitting-room, while Eleanor went to her own room for her nap.
Bee and Patsy spent an enjoyable but uneventful hour in the orange groves, returning with their basket piled high with luscious fruit. Mindful of her intent to have first audience with her father on his return that afternoon, Patsy posted herself on a balcony overlooking the drive to watch for him.
When, at five o’clock, he drove the car up the drive, he was met halfway to the house by his daughter who imperiously demanded a ride to the garage.
Informed of all that had recently occurred and the course of action Patsy had laid out for him, Mr. Carroll looked decidedly grave.
“I’m sorry to hear this of Carlos,” he said. “So far as work goes, he’s an excellent man. I’m going to adopt your suggestion, Patsy, to say nothing to him at present about this ghost business. I’ll explain to your Aunt Martha so that she’ll be satisfied to let matters stand as they are. Of course, if he continues to stir up trouble among the maids or my black boys by frightening them with ridiculous yarns about ghosts, then I shall feel obliged to come down on him for it.”
“Have you asked him yet about either old Rosita or Dolores?”