When Mr. Werner had gone they conversed for some time on the subject of motion pictures, and the man’s remarkable statement concerning them.

“I had no idea,” Beth confessed, “that the industry of making pictures is so extensive and involves so much thought and detail.”

“And money,” added Uncle John.  “It must be a great expense just to employ that army of actors.”

“I suppose Mr. Werner, being a theatrical man, has drawn the long bow in his effort to impress us,” said Patsy.  “I’ve been thinking over some of the pictures I’ve seen recently and I can’t imagine a moral, however intangible or illusive, in connection with any of them.  But perhaps I wasn’t observant enough.  The next time I go to a picture show I shall study the plays more carefully.”

CHAPTER III

AN ATTRACTIVE GIRL

On Saturday they were treated to a genuine surprise, for when the omnibus drew up before the hotel entrance it brought Arthur Weldon and his girl-wife, Louise, who was Uncle John’s eldest niece.  It also brought “the Cherub,” a wee dimpled baby hugged closely in the arms of Inez, its Mexican nurse.

Patsy and Beth shrieked in ecstasy as they rushed forward to smother “Toodlums,” as they irreverently called the Cherub, with kisses.  Inez, a handsome, dark-eyed girl, relinquished her burden cheerfully to the two adoring “aunties,” while Uncle John kissed Louise and warmly shook the hand of her youthful husband.

“What in the world induced you to abandon your beloved ranch?” inquired Mr. Merrick.

“Don’t ask me, sir!” replied Arthur, laughing at the elder gentleman’s astonishment.  He was a trim young fellow, with a clean-cut, manly face and frank, winning manners.

“It’s sort of between hay and grass with us, you know,” he explained.  “Walnuts all marketed and oranges not ready for the pickers.  All our neighbors have migrated, this way or that, for their regular winter vacations, and after you all left, Louise and I began to feel lonely.  So at breakfast this morning we decided to flit.  At ten o’clock we caught the express, and here we are—­in time for lunch.  I hope it’s ready, Uncle John.”

It was; but they must get their rooms and settle the baby in her new quarters before venturing to enter the dining room.  So they were late for the midday meal and found themselves almost the only guests in the great dining hall.

As they sat at table, chatting merrily together, Arthur asked: 

“What are you staring at, Patsy?”

“A lovely girl,” said she.  “One of the loveliest girls I have ever seen.  Don’t look around, Arthur; it might attract their attention.”

“How many girls are there?”

“Two; and a lady who seems to be their mother.  The other girl is pretty, too, but much younger than her sister—­or friend, for they do not resemble one another much.  They came in a few minutes ago and are seated at the table in the opposite corner.”