Rosanna looked blank. “I hadn’t thought about that at all. Of course I can’t go on calling you Miss Hooker, and then Mrs. Horton. And you are too little and too young to be anybody’s aunt.”
Miss Hooker watched her with a smile.
“What are you going to do about it then? I want you to call me just what you like. You are to choose.”
“Then I will tell you what,” said Rosanna brightly. “I was reading the sweetest little story the other day about a Spanish family, and they called each other Cita. It means dear.”
“Cita,” repeated Miss Hooker. “Why, I think that is just as sweet as it can be, and I should love to have you call me that.”
“Then that is what you are, little Cita,” said Rosanna with a kiss. And to her devoted household, Cita she remains to this very day.
Cita and Uncle Robert did not seem able to agree on a date for their wedding. Cita declared that it would take at least six or eight months to get what she mysteriously called her “things” together. Uncle Robert declared with equal fervor that she had everything she needed, and that they were not going to go off and live on a desert isle where there were no shops.
Finally Uncle Robert had an inspiration. “I tell you what let’s do,” he said after a long argument. “Let’s leave this to an outsider: someone with no special interest in the affair. And as a business man, I will name the agent.”
“Very well,” said Cita. “See that you play fair.”