Having related to her father all she knew of both, Patsy now referred to them by name.
“Yes.” Mr. Carroll smiled. “I described them to him this morning and inquired about them. He had nothing to say beyond that this Rosita was his grandmother and not insane. He swears that he never saw this girl Dolores.”
“I don’t believe him,” Patsy said with a vigorous shake of her auburn head. “She has lived in this neighborhood several years. She told me so. He was brought up here. He must have seen her often. He’s a Spanish-speaking Mexican and she’s Spanish. He must certainly know who she is. Why he should deny knowing her I can’t imagine. Just the same, it’s something I intend to find out, if only for my own satisfaction.”
CHAPTER XVIII
SOMETHING!
“There’s to be a Venetian fête on Lake Worth on Thursday evening. Would you like to attend it?”
Mr. Carroll made this announcement at the breakfast table one Monday morning to an interested group of listeners. A week had elapsed since the eventful morning on which Patsy had made the acquaintance of Dolores and the Wayfarers had returned from the beach in time to witness the departure of ghost-ridden Mammy Luce.
On the following morning they had gone, accompanied by Miss Carroll, to keep tryst with their wood nymph at the spot she had designated. As Patsy had predicted, her chums immediately succumbed to the charm of the little Spanish girl.
Even Miss Martha had no fault to find with her so far as behavior went. She found the young girl neither ill-bred nor uncouth. Instead, Dolores exhibited toward stately Miss Carroll a shy deference that would have impressed in her favor a far more critical judge.