“You are quite athletic, are you not?” she asked him innocently, her baby blue eyes fastened on his.
“I, athletic?” exclaimed the little count in surprise. “Not very, Mademoiselle. Why do you ask?”
“Because you run so well,” Mollie answered, with a far-away look.
“You refer to this morning, I perceive, Mademoiselle,” expostulated the count. “I do not swim; therefore I ran for help. But there was no danger. Your sister was never in deep water. Yet it was a most effective scene. Doubtless the young lady will enjoy being a heroine.”
Mollie flushed. “Barbara would have been in danger if Marian had not helped to pull her and the child out of the water. And, by the way, Marian does not swim either.”
“Ah, Mademoiselle Marian? I saw her later,” laughed the count. “How droll was her appearance and that of your sister also.”
Mollie heartily disgusted with the little count turned her back on him.
“Get into the motor car, both of you,” ordered Miss Sallie firmly.
A few minutes later their automobile reached the entrance to the cocoanut grove.
“Papa, let us stop here and have tea?” asked Ruth.