"Ah! it is nice of you to say so," replied Francisca, "but I do not believe it—nor does Miss Dysart."
Miss Dysart kept her lids discreetly lowered.
"By the way," she said, "I have someone to thank for a portion of a rose-garden myself. I don't suppose the hotels furnish that."
"Miss Francisca—" began the enlightened Professor.
"The Señor," interposed Francisca, quickly, "naturally wished you to have a Californian welcome. Francisco and I carried them down for him."
This time Miss Dysart raised her lids and looked straight at the girl before her.
"Thank you," she said, quietly.
"But if you care for roses," said Francisca, rising, "you must look at ours in the garden. We are proud of our roses, though it is not the rose season," she added; "for that you must come in April and May."
"Thanks!" exclaimed Miss Dysart, "but when one is used to one's roses by the half-dozen, this will do!"
"You shall have as many as you like every day, of course," said Francisca. "Or, perhaps," she added, quietly, "you will like to come and gather them yourself. The garden is yours."