“Uncle John is going to take us to Bermuda,” said Patsy in a serious voice.
The little man flushed and sat down abruptly. The major, noting his attitude, became disturbed.
“You’ve all made the California trip,” said he. “It doesn’t pay to see any country twice.”
“But we haven’t seen Arthur’s ranch,” Beth reminded him.
“Nor the baby,” added Patsy, regarding the back of Uncle John’s head somewhat wistfully.
The silence that followed was broken only by the major’s low growls. The poor man already knew his fate.
“That chile-con-carne nurse ought to be discharged,” mumbled Uncle John, half audibly. “Mexicans are stupid creatures to have around. I think we ought to take with us an experienced nurse, who is intelligent and up-to-date.”
“Oh, I know the very one!” exclaimed Beth. “Mildred Travers. She’s perfectly splendid. I’ve watched her with that poor girl who was hurt at the school, and she’s as gentle and skillful as she is refined. Mildred would bring up that baby to be as hearty and healthful as a young savage.”
“How soon could she go?” asked Uncle John.
“At an hour’s notice, I’m sure. Trained nurses are used to sudden calls, you know. I’ll see her to-morrow—if it’s better weather.”