The night of the Pageant was as beautiful as the most exacting young person could desire. There was no moon, but there seemed to be an extra bright scattering of stars to make up for it. A soft, cool ocean breeze stirred the air, there was no dampness, and everybody pronounced the evening as perfect as if specially made for the occasion.
An early dinner was served at "Red Chimneys," and then the guests dispersed to don their carnival costumes.
With her usual promptness, Patty was ready first, and coming down to the drawing-room, found nobody there. So she took opportunity to admire her own effects in the multitude of mirrors.
It was an exquisite reflection that faced her. She had not adopted Daisy's idea of fishnet, as that seemed to her too heavy. Laurence Cromer had approved of her own suggestions, and together they had designed her costume. It was of pale green chiffon, trailing away in long, wavy lines. Over it, hung from the shoulders a tunic-like drapery of white chiffon. This was frosted, here and there, with broken, shimmering lines of silver, and the whole effect hinted of moonlight on the sea.
Patty's wonderful hair fell in curling, tumbling masses over her shoulders and far down her back. In it were twined a few strands of seaweed,—beautifully coloured French work, which Laurence Cromer had procured from somewhere by a very special order. Across the top of her head a silver band confined the riotous curls, and from it, in the centre, rose an upright silver star.
Though simple, the whole costume was harmonious and picturesque, and suited Patty's fair beauty to perfection. Her bare arms and throat were soft and rounded as a baby's, and her lovely face had a pink glow of happiness, while her eyes were like two starlit violets.
She peacocked about the room, frankly delighted at her own reflection in the mirrors, and practised the pose she was to assume on the Float.
In the mirror she saw that a majestic figure was entering the room, and wheeling swiftly about, she beheld Father Neptune himself smiling at her.
Farnsworth had sent to a theatrical costumer in the city for his garb, and very handsome he looked in a dark green velvet robe that hung in classic folds. He wore a snow-white wig and long white beard, and a gold and jewelled crown that was dazzlingly regal. He carried a trident, and in all respects, looked the part as Neptune is so often pictured. Patty gazed at him a moment in silent admiration, and then sprang to her pose, lightly poised forward, her weight on one foot, and her arms gracefully outspread.
Big Bill held his breath. Always lithe and graceful, to-night Patty looked like a veritable spirit. Her floating draperies, her golden hair, and her perfect face, crowned with the single silver star, seemed to belong to some super-human being, not to a mere mortal.
Big Bill walked slowly toward her.
"Patty!" he murmured, almost beneath his breath. "Apple Blossom! I want you so!"
A lovelier pink rose to Patty's cheeks, for it was impossible to mistake the earnestness in Bill's voice. She smiled at him, gently for a moment, and then roguishly, and her dimples flashed into view, as she danced lightly away from him, calling back over her shoulder, "Catch me first!"
"You'll say that once too often yet, my lady!" declared Farnsworth, as he stood with folded arms looking after her, but not following her dancing footsteps.
At the hall doorway, Patty turned and looked back, down the long room. Farnsworth stood where she had left him, and his majestic pose, as he held his gilded trident, suited well his stalwart, magnificent physique.
"Come back here," he said, and his voice was not dictatorial, but quietly compelling.
Slowly Patty danced down the room, swaying, as if in rhythm with unheard music. As she came to a pause in front of Farnsworth, she made him a sweeping, mocking courtesy.
"Father Neptune, god of the Sea!" she said, as if offering homage.
Farnsworth raised his hand, dramatically.
"Spirit of the Sea," he said, "Nymph of the silver-crested waves, kneel before me!"
Catching his mood, Patty sank gracefully on one knee, bowing her fair head before the majestic sea-god.
"I crown thee," Neptune went on, "fairest of all nymphs, loveliest of all goddesses. Spirit of the Sea, but also, maiden of the apple blossoms."
Patty felt a light touch on her bowed head, but did not move, until a moment later, Neptune held out his hand.
"Rise, Spirit of the Sea, crowned by Neptune, god of the Ocean!"
Patty rose, and in a nearby mirror saw her crown. It was a slender wreath of wonderfully fine workmanship. Leaves of fairy-like silver filigree, and tiny apple blossoms, of pink and white enamel. Light in weight, soft, yet sparkling in effect, it rested on her fair head, in no way interfering with the silver star that flashed above it. Indeed, it seemed the last touch needed to perfect the beauty of Patty's costume, and her face was more than ever like an apple blossom as she turned to thank Farnsworth for his gift.
But before she could do so, several people sprang in from the hall, where they had been watching the coronation ceremony.
"Hooray for you two!" cried Roger. "You show true dramatic genius!Patty, you're a peach to-night! Bill, you're a hummer!"
Only Daisy was unsmiling. A pang of jealousy thrilled her heart, as she saw the exquisite picture Patty made, and saw, too, the lovely gift Farnsworth had given her. Daisy's costume was beautiful and exceedingly artistic, but the grey, misty garb seemed tame beside Patty's clear coloured draperies and bright, sea-weed tangled hair.
"Patty, you're wonderful!" Mona exclaimed. "If I weren't so weighted down with this dragging train, I'd hug you!"
Mona looked regal in her Cleopatra costume. She had chosen a rich white and gold brocaded satin, and the gold lace on the train which hung from her shoulders, made it heavy indeed. She was loaded with jewels, both real and paste, and her Egyptian headdress was both gorgeous and becoming. Mona had never looked so well, and Roger, who was Father Nile, expressed his admiration frankly.
"I say, Mona," he declared, "if the real Cleo Pat looked like you, I don't blame old Mark for flirting with her. Maybe I'll flirt with you before the evening is over."
"Ha! Minion! Methinks thou art presumptuous!" said Mona, marching about theatrically. But she smiled at Roger, for the two had become good friends.
Adele and Jim Kenerley were Dutch young people, and in blue and white cotton costumes, looked as if they had just alighted from an old Delft platter.
Laurence Cromer took no costume part, as he had to direct the posing of the characters and the scenic details of the parade.
Mrs. Parsons was enchanted with the gorgeousness of her party of young people, and when Patty gave her a sprig of seaweed to tuck in her bodice, she felt as if she belonged to the water carnival.
Motors carried the laughing crowd to the Sayres' house, from where the floats were to start.
Of course Old Ocean's Float led the parade. Though not very realistic, it was a theatrical representation of the sea, and the great billows, made of green muslin crested with cotton batting and stretched over somewhat wabbly framework, tossed and swayed almost like the Atlantic breakers. At the back end of the float was a great canopied throne, on which sat the gold-crowned Neptune holding his firmly planted trident. Before him seemed to dance the Spirit of the Sea, for Patty, now in one pose and now in another, was outlined against the dark billows with charming effect. A bright electric light streaming from a point above the throne, illuminated both characters and threw into relief the shells and seaweed that decorated the sides of the float.
The other floats were equally well done,—some even better in artistic conception. Each received uproarious applause as it rolled slowly along the line of march. Hotels and cottages were all illuminated, and the whole population of Spring Beach was out admiring the Pageant.
"Aren't you tired, Patty?" asked Farnsworth, gently, as she changed her pose.
"Yes, I am," she confessed; "but it isn't the posing,—it's the jolting. I had no idea the ocean was so rickety!"
"Poor little girlie! I wish I could do something for you. But we have to go a couple of miles further yet. Can you stand it!"
"Yes; but I'd rather SIT it!"
"Do! Come and sit on this throne beside me. There's plenty of room."
"Oh, nonsense, I couldn't. What would the people think?"
"Do you want to KNOW what they'd think?" returned Farnsworth, promptly."They'd think that you were old Neptune's Queen, and that you meant tosit beside him all the rest of your life. Let them think that,Patty,—and, let it be true! Will you, my apple blossom girl?"
"No, Bill," said Patty, quietly, and changed her pose so that she did not face him. His words had startled her. Above the rumbling of the float, she had heard him clearly, though, of course, they could not be overheard by the laughing, chattering bystanders.
His earnest tones had left no room for doubt of his meaning, and after Patty's first shock of surprise, she felt a deep regret that he should have spoken thus. But in an instant her quick wit told her that she must not think about it now. She must turn a laughing, careless face to the passing audience.
"Nay, nay, Neptune," she said, facing him again, "I must play my own part. If a life on the ocean wave is not as easy as I had hoped, yet must I brave it out to the end."
Farnsworth took his cue. He knew he ought not to have spoken so seriously at this time, but it was really involuntary. He had fallen deeply in love with the Eastern girl, and his Western whole-heartedness made it difficult for him to conceal his feelings. He flashed a warm, sunny smile at her and said heartily:
"All right, Sea Sprite! I know your pluck and perseverance. You'll get there, with bells on! Take the easiest pose you can, and hang on to that foam-crested wave near you. It sways a bit, but it's firmly anchored. I looked out for that, before I trusted you to this ramshackle old hay wagon!"
Patty smiled back, really helped by his hearty sympathy and strong, ringing voice.
"I HATE to be so,—so unable to stand things!" she exclaimed, pouting a little.
"You're no Sandow girl," he replied; "but—one can't expect an apple blossom to be as strong as a—a cabbage!"
"Nor as strong as a great big Westerner," she returned, looking admiringly at the stalwart Neptune, and thereby pleasing him greatly, for Big Bill was honestly proud of his pounds and inches.
At last they reached the Country Club, which was their destination, and the parade was over; though as the carnival was to conclude with a supper and a dance for the participators, the best part of the fun was yet to come. Aunt Adelaide, who had reached the clubhouse a little earlier, was waiting for her charges, and Bill promptly escorted Patty to her.
"Look after this little girl, won't you, Mrs. Parsons?" he said. "She'll be O. K. after a few moments' rest, but a seafaring life is a hard one, and this little craft is glad to get into port."
Patty gave him a grateful glance, and said:
"Nonsense, Aunt Adelaide, I'm not really tired, but I just want to sit down a while. My feet have a headache!"
"I don't wonder!" declared Mona. "It was awful for you to perch on one toe for a hundred million mile ride! And I reclined at ease on a Roman trident, or whatever you call it!" "Tripod, you mean," said Adele, laughing, "or is it trireme?"
"Dunno," said Mona, who was arranging Patty in a soft easy-chair in the dressing-room of the club. "Now, you sit there, you Sea Witch," she commanded, "and I'll have a maid bring you a hot bouillon or a weak tea, whichever you prefer. You can't have coffee, it might spoil that pinky-winky complexion of yours."
"Nothing can spoil that!" said Daisy, and though the remark sounded complimentary, it was prompted by a spirit of jealousy. Daisy had truly appreciated Patty's generosity in the matter of the note but she couldn't gracefully submit to having her own brunette beauty eclipsed by what she called a doll-face.
Patty's weariness was purely muscular, and so of short duration, and after ten minutes' rest, she was feeling as fresh as ever.
"Now, what do we do?" she asked, shaking her draperies into place and adjusting the new wreath on her hair.
"Now comes the supper," said Mona, "and I'm glad of it. Come on, girls."
The long dining hall at the club was a pretty sight. The guests were all in their Pageant costumes, and as the various float groups mingled, the contrasts were effective. A Venetian gondolier escorted a fisher girl of the Seine, or a bold buccaneer from the Spanish Main clanked his sword in time with the clatter of the wooden sabots of a Holland lass.
Neptune was waiting to escort the Spirit of the Sea to a table, but as Patty came through the dressing-room door, Captain Sayre bowed before her, and asked the honour of taking her to supper. As Farnsworth had made no engagement with Patty, merely taking it for granted that she would go with him, she saw no reason to decline Captain Sayre's invitation, and went gaily away with him.
Farnsworth gazed after her with a look of dazed bewilderment.
"Had you asked her?" said an amused voice, and turning, he saw Mrs.Parsons at his elbow.
"No! I was too stupid to think of it!"
"Patty is so very popular, you know, it's difficult to secure her favours. Have you engaged any dances?"
"No! What an idiot I am! You see, Mrs. Parsons, I'm not really a 'society man,' and in these formal affairs, I'm a bit out of my element. Will you do me the honour to go to supper with me?"
Aunt Adelaide looked at the towering figure in its regal velvet robes.
"I oughtn't to," she said, with a little laugh, "but I can't resist the temptation. So I will! The idea of MY going with the king of the whole show!"
"Excepting Miss Fairfield, there's no one I'd rather have," said BigBill, honestly, and so Father Neptune strode majestically to his seatat the head of the table, and at his right sat primly, fluttering AuntAdelaide, instead of the witching sprite he had expected to place there.
Patty was really glad, for she didn't wish to appear too exclusively with Farnsworth, and yet she was a little disappointed, too, for as the Spirit of the Sea, her place was by Father Neptune.
But Captain Sayre made himself very entertaining, and as JackPennington was on her other side, she soon forgot all about LittleBillee, and gave herself up to the fun of the moment.
"I well remember your beautiful dancing," said the captain. "Will you give me some waltzes?"
"I don't give them plurally," said Patty, smiling at him. "I'll give you one, perhaps; a half one, anyway."
"Not enough!" said Captain Sayre, decidedly. "I must have more than that, by fair means—or otherwise. Where is your card?"
"I haven't any yet; won't it be time enough to get one after supper?"
"Yes, if you let me see it before any one else. I find it's a trick with the young men here to make dance engagements surreptitiously at the supper table."
Patty glanced about, and saw more than one tasselled card appearing and disappearing from hand to hand.
A moment later, she heard a voice behind her chair. "Apple Blossom," it whispered, "I've brought you a dance card. Say 'Thank you, Bill.'"
"Thank you, Father Neptune," said Patty, flashing a smile at him, as she took the card, and turned back to the captain.
"Now I have a programme, Captain Sayre," Patty said. "If you really want a part of a dance—"
"I don't!" declared the captain, positively. "There are some ladies I'd dance half a dance with, but NOT with you."
"Then I suppose I'll have to give you a whole one," Patty sighed, "and I know I won't have enough to go 'round. You know it's late, and there are only ten dances on the list."
"And they're half gone!" exclaimed Captain Sayre, as he looked at the card Patty had handed him.
"What!" she cried, looking at it herself.
Sure enough there was a very big black B. F. written against every other dance!
"Bill Farnsworth!" she exclaimed. "Well, if he hasn't a nerve! He wants the earth!"
"And the sea, and all that in them is!" said Captain Sayre. "Look here, Miss Fairfield, I'll be satisfied with the other five. Thus, you're dividing your dances evenly, don't you see?"
"Nonsense! I'll agree to no such highway robbery! You may have a dance, Captain Sayre,—take a waltz, if you like; and then give me my card again. Do you want one, Jack?"
"DO I? Does a squirrel want nuts? Only one, Sea Spirit?"
"Yes, only one. It's such a short programme to-night."
"And is Big Bill to have five?"
"Indeed, no! I shall cross those all off but one."
Learning, somehow, of what was going on, most of the men at the table began to beg Patty for a dance, and in a few moments her card was filled.
She shook her head reprovingly at Farnsworth, who quite understood the reason.
Supper over, the dancing began, and as it was a summer evening, the dances alternated with cooling strolls on the long verandas of the club house. Patty loved to dance, and greatly preferred good dancers for partners.
Captain Sayre was especially proficient in the art, and as their dance was followed by an "extra," he persuaded Patty to do a fancy dance with him, like they had danced at the Sayres' garden party. Soon most of the dancers had paused to watch the two, swaying and pirouetting in a dance, partly impromptu, and partly fashioned on some they had previously learned. It was a pretty sight. Patty, whose step was light as thistledown, followed any hint of Captain Sayre's, and so clever were his leads that the audience broke into loud applause. It was almost more than Farnsworth could bear. He stood looking at them with such a wistful expression that Patty concluded to stop.
"I'm a little tired," she whispered to her partner, "but I want to dance a moment alone. Will you let me? And ask the orchestra to play the Spring Song."
"I'll love to look at you," declared the captain, and at the end of a measure, he gracefully danced away from her, and Patty stood alone.
The rest had all ceased dancing now, preferring to watch, and as they were nearly all Patty's friends and acquaintances, she felt no embarrassment.
"The Apple Blossom Dance," she said, and flung herself into a series of wonderful rhythmic motions that seemed to give hint of all the charms of spring. One could almost see flowers and hear birds as the light draperies swayed like veils in a soft breeze. And then, with a fleeting glance and smile at Farnsworth, Patty plucked apple blossoms from overhanging boughs, and tossed them to the audience. There were no trees, and there were no blossoms, but so exquisite was her portrayal of blossom time, and so lovely her swaying arms and tossing hair that many were ready to declare they could even detect the fragrance of the flowers. But when Patty essayed to stop, the riotous applause that followed and the cries of "Encore! encore!" persuaded her to dance once more, though very tired.
More languidly this time the apple blossoms were plucked from the branches, more slowly the springtime steps were taken, and before she reached a point in the music where she could stop, Patty was swaying from faintness, not by design.
Farnsworth saw this, and acting on a sudden impulse, he swung the great folds of his trailing velvet over his arm, and with a few gliding steps, reached her side, threw an arm round her, and suiting his steps to hers, continued the figure she had begun. But he supported her weary little form, he held her in a strong, firm clasp, and, a fine dancer himself, he completed the "Apple Blossom Dance" with her, which she never could have done alone. Then, after bowing together to the delighted and tumultuously applauding audience, he led her to a seat, and shielded her from the unthinking crowd, who begged her to dance for them again.
"Little Billee, you're a dear!" said Patty, as the next dance took the people away again. "How did you know I was going to sink through the floor in just one more minute?"
"I saw how tired you were, and though I hated to 'butt in' on your performance, I just felt I had to, to save you from collapse."
"You DIDN'T 'butt in'! You're a beautiful dancer, better than Captain Sayre, in some ways, though you don't know so many fancy steps. But you picked up my idea of the apple blossom steps at once!"
"Because that's OUR dance. And you're my property to-night, anyway.Didn't Neptune crown the Spirit of the Sea?"
"Yes, and I haven't yet thanked you for this lovely wreath! It's the most beautiful thing! Where DID you get it?"
"I had it made, to replace the one I stole from you the night of the storm."
"You didn't steal that,—I gave it to you."
"Well, and so I give you this one in return. Will you wear it sometimes?"
"I'll wear it often, it's so lovely. And SO becoming,—isn't it?"
Naughty Patty smiled most provokingly up into the big blue eyes that looked intently at her.
"Becoming?" he said. "Yes, it IS! What isn't becoming to you, you little beauty?"
"There, there, don't flatter me!" and Patty cast down her eyes demurely. "Oh, Jack, is this our dance?" And with a saucy bow, Patty left Big Bill, and strolled away on Jack Pennington's arm.
"You're a regular out and out belle to-night, Patty," he said, frankly."All the men are crazy over you, and all the girls are envious."
"'Tisn't me," said Patty, meekly. "It's this ridiculous green rig and my unkempt hair."
"Shouldn't wonder," returned Jack, teasingly; "girls always look best in fancy dress."
"So do the boys," Patty retorted. "Isn't Bill Farnsworth stunning in that Neptune toga,—or whatever it's called?"
"Pooh, you'd think he was stunning in anything, wouldn't you?"
"Oh,—I don't know—" and Patty put her fingertip in her mouth, and looked so exaggeratedly shy that Jack burst into laughter.
"You're a rogue, Patty," he declared. "If you don't look out you'll grow up a flirt."
"Am I flirting with you?" and Patty opened her eyes very wide in mock horror at such an idea.
"No,—not exactly. But you may, if you like."
"I DON'T like!" said Patty, decidedly. "We're good chums, Jack, and I want to stay so. No flirt nonsense about us, is there?"
"No," said Jack; "let's dance," and away they whirled in a gay two-step.
When the dancing was over, the "Red Chimneys" party started for home in various motors. Patty thought Bill would ask her to ride with him, but he didn't come near her, and she wondered if he were annoyed or offended in any way.
She confessed to feeling a little tired, and rode quietly beside AuntAdelaide, leaning her sunny head on that lady's shoulder.
"But it was lovely!" she said, with a sort of purr like a contented kitten. "I'd like to have a Pageant every night!"
"Yes, you would!" exclaimed Roger, who sat in front of her in the big motor. "You'd be dancing in a sanitarium next thing you knew."
"Pooh!" retorted Patty. "I'm not a decrepit old invalid yet, am I, AuntAdelaide?"
"No, dearie; but you must take care of yourself. I think a cold compress on your forehead to-night would do you good."
"And a hot compress on my chin, and two lukewarm ones on my ears," teased Patty, laughing at the solicitous tones of the older lady. "No, sir-ee! I'll catch a nap or two, and tomorrow I'll be as right as a—as a—what's that thing that's so awfully right?"
"A trivet," said Mona.
"Yes, a trivet. I've no idea what it is, but I'll be one!"
There was a light supper set out in the dining-room at "Red Chimneys," but no one wanted any, so good-nights were said almost immediately and the wearied revellers sought their rooms.
"No kimono parties to-night, girls," said Patty, firmly. "I'm going straight to bed."
"All right," agreed Mona and Daisy, "we'll save our gossip till morning."
But Patty didn't go straight to bed. She flashed on the lights in her rose-coloured boudoir, drew the curtains of the bay window, and then threw herself into a big easy-chair. She was thinking of Mr. William Farnsworth. She wished he hadn't said what he had. It worried her, somehow. And when he said good-night just now, he had a look in his eyes that meant,—well, perhaps it didn't mean anything after all. Perhaps he was only flirting,—as Patty herself was. But was she? She had just asked herself this question, really seriously, when a rose came flying in at the window and fell at her feet. She looked up quickly,—she was SURE she had drawn the curtains. Yes, she had done so, but there was just a little space between them, where they didn't quite join.
Well, it must have been a good marksman who could throw so accurately!Westerners were accounted good marksmen,—it MIGHT be—
And then a second rose followed the first, and others, at intervals, until a good-sized heap lay at Patty's feet.
Laughing in spite of herself, she went to the window, and peeped out between the curtains.
"Why, it's you!" she exclaimed, as if she hadn't known it all the time.
"Yes," and Big Bill smiled at her over the armful of roses he still held. "I've completely stripped the rose garden, but I had to bombard you with something!"
"Are you a bombardier?"
"No, I'm a beggar. I'm begging you to come out here for a few minutes and see the moonlight on the ocean."
"Why, there isn't any moon!"
"That's so! I mean the sun."
"Well, the sun isn't QUITE up yet!"
"That's so! Well, I mean the—the stars,—there, I knew SOMETHING was shining!"
Bill's laugh was so infectious that Patty couldn't help joining it, but she said:
"I can't, Little Billee. It's too late, and I'm too tired, and—"
"But I'm going away to-morrow."
"You are! I didn't know."
"Do you CARE? Oh, Patty, come out for a minute, I want to tell you something."
Still in her green draperies and silver wreath, Patty stepped out on the veranda, saying, "Just for a tiny minute, then."
Bill had discarded his Neptune trappings, and in evening dress, was his handsome self again.
"You were fine as Neptune," said Patty, looking at him critically as he stood against a veranda pillar, "but you're better as a plain man."
"Thank you!" said Bill, ironically.
"Fishing! Well, I DIDN'T mean that you're plain, but,—I won't say whatI did mean."
"Oh, dear! Another fond hope shattered! I WISH I knew what you DID mean!"
"Don't be silly, or I'll run back. If you'll promise not to be silly,I'll stay another minute."
"But, you see, I never know when I am silly."
"Almost always! Now let's talk about the Pageant. Didn't Daisy look pretty?"
"Yes. But I fancy blondes myself."
"Now that's ambiguous. I don't know whether you mean because you're one or because I'm one."
"Why! So you ARE a blonde, aren't you? I never noticed it before!"
"Really? How nice! I've always wondered how I'd strike an entire stranger!"
"Why strike him at all?"
"Now you're silly again! But I mean, I'd like to know what an utter stranger would think of me."
"I hate to be called an utter stranger, but I haven't the least objection to saying what I think of you. In fact, I'd like to! May I?"
"Is it nice?" asked Patty, frightened a little at Bill's quiet tones.
"Judge for yourself. I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,—and the most fascinating. I think you have the sweetest nature and disposition imaginable. I think you have just enough perversity to give you the Zip you need."
"What is Zip?"
"Never mind; don't interrupt. I think you are the most adorable fluff of femininity in the world,—and I KNOW I love you, and I want you for all my very own. Patty,—DARLING,—tell me now what you think of ME."
"Oh, Bill, DON'T say such things to me,—PLEASE, don't!" And Patty's overstrung nerves gave way, and she began to cry.
"I won't, dear,—I won't, if it bothers you," and Big Bill's arm went round her in such a comforting way that Patty wept on his broad shoulder.
"Don't,—don't think me a silly," she said, smiling up at him through her tears, "but—I'm so tired, and sleepy,—if you could just wait till morning,—I'd tell you then what I think of you."
"Very well, dear, I'll wait."
"No, you needn't, I'll tell you now," and Patty suddenly drew away fromBill's arm and faced him bravely. "I'm a coward,—that's what I am! AndI cried because,—because I can't say what you want me to, and—and IHATE to hurt your feelings,—because I LIKE you so much."
"Patty! do you KNOW what you're talking about?"
"Yes, I do! But I can't seem to say it out plain, without hurting your nice, big, kind heart."
"Let me say it for you, little girl. Is it this? Is it that you like me as a friend, and a comrade—chum, but you don't love me as I love you, and you're afraid it will hurt me to know it?"
"Yes, yes, that's it! How did you know?"
"You told me yourself, unconsciously. Now, listen, my girl. I only love you MORE for being brave and honest about it. And I love you more still for your dear, kind heart that can't bear to hurt anybody. And to prove that love, I'm not going to say any more to you on this subject,—at least, not now. Forget what I have said; let us go back to our good comradeship. I startled you; I spoke too soon, I know. So forget it, my apple blossom, and remember only that Little Billee is your friend, who would do anything in the world for you."
"You're an awfully nice man," said Patty, not coyly, but sincerely, as she laid her hand on his arm a moment.
"Now you HAVE told me what you think of me!" cried Farnsworth, gaily, and taking the little hand he held it lightly clasped in his own. "And I thank you, lady, for those kind words! Now, you can look at the moon just a minute longer, and then you must fly, little bird, to your nest in the tree."
"Yes, I must go. Tell me, Little Billee, where did you learn to dance so well?"
"It's mostly my natural grace! I took a few lessons of a wandering minstrel, out home, but I don't know the technique of it, as you and that ornamental captain do."
"But you could learn easily. Shall I teach you?"
"No,—Apple Blossom, I think not."
"Oh, there won't be time. You said you're leaving to-morrow! Must you go?"
"It doesn't matter whether I must or not. If you look at me like that,I WON'T! There, there, Sea Witch, run away, or—or I'll flirt with you!"
"Yes, it's time I went," said Patty, demurely, gathering up her draperies. "But, Billee, how can I thank you for the dear, sweet lovely wreath?"
"Well, there are several ways in which you COULD thank me,—though I'm not sure you WOULD. Suppose we just consider me thanked?"
"That doesn't seem much. Shall I write you a note?"
"That doesn't seem VERY much. Why don't you give me a gift in return?"
"I will! What do you want? A penknife?"
"Mercy, no! I'll have to think it over. Wait! I have it! Have your picture taken—with the wreath on, and give me that."
"All right, I will. Or perhaps Mr. Cromer would sketch me in this whole rig."
"PERHAPS he WOULD!" and Farnsworth caught his breath, as he looked at the vision of loveliness before him. "But we'll see about that later. Skip to bed now, Apple Blossom, and don't appear below decks before noon to-morrow."
"No, I won't. I'm awful tired. Good-night, Little Billee."
"Good-night, Apple Blossom Girl," and Farnsworth held aside the curtain as Patty stepped through the window.
A shower of flowers flew after her, for Bill had picked up his remaining posies, and Patty laughed softly, as the curtain fell and she stood in her room, surrounded by a scattered heap of roses.
"Just like a theatrical lady," she said, smiling and bowing to an imaginary audience, for Patty loved to "make-believe."
And then she took off her silver wreath and put it carefully away.
"Little Billee is SUCH a nice boy," she said, reflectively, as she closed the box.
"Hello, Pattypet," said Mona, appearing at Patty's bedside next morning. "How's your chocolate? Does it suit you?"
"Delicious," said Patty, who was luxuriously nestling among her pillows while she ate her breakfast.
"Well, make the most of it, for you'll never get anything more fit to eat or drink in this happy home."
"What DO you mean?"
"Listen to my tale of woe. The chef and his wife have both left."
"Francois? And Marie! Why, whatever for?"
"Your English is a bit damaged, but I'll tell you. You see, Aunt Adelaide flew into one of her biggest tantrums, because her shirred egg was shirred too full, or her waffles didn't waff,—or something,—and she sent for Francois and gave him such a large piece of her mind that he picked up his Marie and walked off."
"Have they really GONE?"
"They really have. I've telephoned to the Intelligence Place, and I can't get a first-class cook down here at all. I shall have to send to the city for one, but, meantime—what to do! What to do!"
"H'm,—and you've guests for luncheon!"
"Yes, the whole Sayre tribe. The captain just CAN'T keep away from YOU! Patty, do you know you're a real belle? Everybody was crazy about you last night."
"Fiddlesticks! Just because I had on a green frock and let my hair hang down."
"Your hair is WONDERFUL. But I didn't come up here to tell you of your own attractions! I want your able advice on how to have a luncheon party without a cook."
"Oh, pooh! that's TOO easy! Give me a helper of some sort, and I'll cook your old luncheon. And I'll promise you it will be just grand!"
"Cook! You? I won't let you. What do you take me for? No, you come with me, and we'll go somewhere where cooks grow and BUY one."
"There won't be time, Mona. What time is luncheon to be?"
"Half-past one; and it's about ten now."
"Oceans of time, then; I tell you, I'll see to the kitchen for luncheon. But of course, you must have a cook, for permanent use."
"Well, rather. But I'll get one from New York by to-morrow morning. And you know Adele Kenerley's friends are coming to dinner to-night. What about that?"
"Leave all to me. I will arrange. But I want somebody to help me. How about Daisy?"
"Daisy's no good at that sort of thing. And I don't like to ask Adele. Say, Patty, let Bill help you; he's a fine cook, I've been on camp picnics with him, and I know. And maybe he wouldn't be GLAD to help you in anything! Ah, there, Patty, you're blushing! I feared as much! Oh, Patty, DO you like him?"
"'Course I like him. He's a jolly chap, and we're good chums."
"But is that all? Patty, tell me; I won't tell."
"There's nothing to tell, Mona. I like Little Billee a whole lot, butI'm not in love with him, if that's what you mean."
"Yes, that's what I mean. I hoped you were."
"Well, I'm not. And I'm not going to be in love with anybody for years and years. I'm fancy-free, and I mean to stay so. So don't try to tease me, for you won't get any fun out of it."
"That's so; you're too straightforward to be teased successfully. Patty, you've been a real lesson to me this summer. I've learned a lot from you. I don't mean to gush, but I DO want to tell you how I appreciate and cherish all the kindness you've shown me."
"Dear old Mona, I'm glad if I've said or done anything to make you feel like that! You're a trump, girl, and I'm glad to have you for a friend. Now, vanish, my lady, and as soon as I can scrabble into a costume, I'll meet you below stairs, and solve all your kitchen problems for you."
"But, Patty, I CAN'T let you go into the kitchen!"
"You can't keep me out, you mean! I'm delighted to have the chance.Aprons are terribly becoming to me."
"Do you want one of the parlourmaid's aprons?"
"I do not! I want a big, all-enveloping cook's apron."
"Well, I suppose you don't want a man's. I'll find you one of Marie's."
"I don't care whose it is, if it's big. Skip, now!"
Mona vanished, and Patty jumped out of bed, and dressed for her new work. She chose a pink-sprigged dimity, simply made, with short sleeves and collarless neck. A dainty breakfast cap surmounted her coil of curls, donned, it must be confessed, because of its extreme becomingness. Mona provided a large, plain white apron, and going to the kitchen, Patty considered the situation.
The viands for the luncheon had arrived, but were not in the least prepared for use. A large basket showed a quantity of live crabs, which lay quietly enough, but a twitching claw here and there betrayed their activity.
"Mercy!" cried Mona, "let's throw these away! You can't do anything with these creatures!"
"Nonsense," said Patty, "I'm versed in the ways of crabs. I'll attend to them. What else, Mona?"
"Oh, here are some queer looking things from the butcher's. I don't know what they are. Can they be brains?"
"No, they're sweetbreads, and fine ones, too. And here is the romaine for the salad, and lovely squabs to roast. Oh, Mona, I'm just in my element! I LOVE to do these things; you know I'm a born cook. But I must have a helper."
"I know; Marie always helped Francois. They were a splendid pair. It's a pity Aunt Adelaide had to stir them up so,—and all over nothing."
"Well, don't cry over spilt eggs. I'll do up this luncheon, and I'll fix it so I can slip up and dress, and appear at the table as if nothing had happened. The waitress and the butler can manage the serving process?"
"Oh, yes. I HATE to have you do it, Patty, but I don't know what else to do. Here, I'll help you."
Patty had already filled a huge kettle with boiling water, and was about to put the crabs in it.
"All right, Mona; catch that side of the basket, and slide them in, all together. It seems awful to scald them, but the sooner the quicker. Now,—in they go!"
But in they DIDN'T go! One frisky crab shot out a long claw and nearly grabbed Mona's finger, which so scared her that she dropped her side of the flat basket, and the crabs all slid out on the floor instead of into the kettle.
With suddenly aroused agility they scuttled in every direction, some waggling to cover under tables and chairs, and some dancing about in the middle of the floor.
Hearing Mona's shrieks and Patty's laughter, Daisy came running down. But the sight was too horrifying for her, and she turned and sped back upstairs. Poor Daisy was not so much to be blamed, for having lived all her life in Chicago, she had never chanced to see live crabs before, and the strange creatures were a bit startling.
She flew out on the veranda and caught Big Bill by one sleeve, andRoger by another.
"Come! Come!" she cried. "Patty and Mona are nearly killed! Oh, hurry!You'll be too late!"
"Where, where?" cried Roger, while Farnsworth turned white with the sudden shock of Daisy's words. He thought some dreadful accident had happened, and fear for Patty's welfare nearly paralysed him.
"This way! That way!" screamed Daisy, darting toward the kitchen stairway, and then flying back again.
Down the stairs raced the two men, and into the kitchen. There they found Patty standing on a side table, armed with a long poker, while Mona danced about on the large table, brandishing a broom in one hand and a mop in the other. Patty was in paroxysms of laughter at Mona's antics, but Mona herself was in terror of her life, and yelled like a wild Indian.
"Get down! Go 'way!" she cried, as an adventurous crab tried, most ineffectually, to climb the table leg.
Roger sprang on to the table beside Mona. "There, there," he said, "you rest a while, and I'll holler for you. Go 'way! Get down! Go 'way, you!"
His imitation of Mona's frightened voice was so funny Patty began to laugh afresh, and Farnsworth joined her.
"Get up here on my table, Little Billee," cried Patty. "You'll be captured and swallowed alive by these monsters!"
Big Bill sat on the corner of Patty's table and looked at her.
"You make a charming little housewife," he said, glancing at the cap and apron.
"Help me, won't you?" Patty returned, blushing a little, but ignoring his words. "I'm going to cook the luncheon, and first of all we must boil these crabs. Can't you corral them and invite them into that kettle of water? We had them started in the right direction, but somehow they got away."
"Right-o!" agreed Bill, and placing the toe of his big shoe gently on a passing crab, he picked it up by the hinge of its left hind leg, and deftly dropped it in the boiling water.
"That's just the right way!" said Patty, nodding approval. "I can pick them up that way, too, but there are so many sprinkled around this floor, I'm afraid they'll pick me up first."
"Yes, they might, Apple Blossom. You sit tight, till I round them all up. Lend a hand, Farrington."
So Roger poked out the unwilling creatures from their lairs, and Bill assisted them to their destination, while the two girls looked on.
"Good work!" cried Patty as the last shelly specimen disappeared beneath the bubbles. "Now, they must boil for twenty minutes. They don't mind it NOW."
The girls came down from their tables, and explained the situation.
"Don't worry, Mona," said Farnsworth, in his kind way. "Patty and I will cook luncheon, and this afternoon I'll go out and get you a cook if I have to kidnap one."
"All right, Bill," said Mona, laughing. "Come on, Roger, let's leave these two. You know too many cooks spoil the broth!"
"So they do!" called Bill, gaily, as Mona, after this parting shaft, fled upstairs. "Do I understand, little Apple Blossom," he observed, gently, "that you're really going to cook this elaborate luncheon all yourself?"
"Yes, sir," said Patty, looking very meek and demure.
"CAN you do it?"
"Yes, sir." Patty dropped her eyes, and drew her toe along a crack in the floor, like a bashful child.
"You little rascal! I believe you can! Well, then, you can be chef andI'll be assistant. I WAS going to arrange it the other way."
"Oh, no, sir! I'll give the orders." And Patty looked as wise and dignified as a small bluebird on a twig.
"You bet you will, my lady! Now, first and foremost, shall I pare the potatoes?"
"Oh, Billee, there must be a scullery maid or something for that!"
"Don't see any, and don't want any! I'm not afraid of staining my lily-white fingers. You'd better put those sweetbreads in cold water to blanch them, and cut up some bread to dry out a little for the squab stuffing."
"For goodness gracious sake! Do you know it all?" exclaimed Patty, looking at him in amazement.
"Yes, I know everything in all the world. I'm a terrible knower!"
"You are so! How did you learn it all?"
"Born so. Are you going to have that sort of a grape fruit muddle in glasses?"
"Yes; with candied cherries in it. Don't you love it?"
"Yes, if you do. What thou lovest, I will love, and thy discards shall be mine also."
"Amiable boy! Now, don't talk to me, I have to measure these things very carefully."
"Oh, I say! Let me make the salad dressing. I'm a hummer at it, and I don't measure a thing."
Patty looked at him coldly.
"If you turn out to be a BETTER cook than I am," she said, "I'll never speak to you again!"
"Oh, I'm not! I'm a FEARFUL cook! I spoil everything I touch! DON'T ask me to make that dressing! DON'T!"
Patty couldn't help laughing at his foolishness, and the work went merrily on.
But picking out the crabs was a tedious task. It was easy enough, and Patty was deft and dainty, but it took a long time, and the sharp shells cut her fingers now and then.
"Let me do it, dear," said Farnsworth, quietly, and he took from her the fork she was using.
"Oh, thank you!" she said, gratefully. "You ARE a help, Little Billee."
"I'm always ready to help YOU, Patty girl; call on me any time, anywhere; if ever you want me,—I'm right there."
"I think somebody else might have helped us with these crabs, anyway."
"They would, if we asked them. I like it better this way. Alone with thee,—just you and me,—the crabs to free,—is bliss for we!"
"Speak for yourself, John! I don't see any bliss in picking out crabs.I've cut and scratched every single solitary finger I possess!"
"Poor little girl! But, you see, I offer you my hand,—both hands, in fact,—there's ten extra fingers at your disposal, if you want them. And all willing and eager to work for you."
"Mr. Farnsworth, how do you suppose I can make croquettes if you talk to me like that? One tablespoonful of flour,—two of butter, three eggs—"
"Pooh, can't you read a recipe and be proposed to at the same time?"
"Yes, I CAN," Patty flashed back, "but,—I pay attention only to the recipe!"
"'Twas ever thus," Bill sighed.
"What! EVERY time you've proposed?" said Patty, roguishly.
"No, because I've never proposed before. Don't you think I do it well for a beginner?"
"Not very."
"Not very! You little scamp, what do you know about it? Have you had a wide experience in proposals?"
"I shouldn't tell you if I had. One of flour, two of butter, three—"
"Three blithering wheelbarrows! Apple Blossom, have you any idea how I love you?"
"Don't put me out, Bill. One of flour, two of butter, three eggs—"
"Now, isn't she the limit?" mused Bill, apparently addressing the crabs. "I express my devotion in terms of endearment, and she babbles like a parrot of flour and butter!"
"If I don't, you'll have no croquettes," and Patty moulded the mixture into oval balls, and arranged them in a frying sieve.
As the time grew shorter they worked away in earnest, and soon after one o'clock everything was ready. The finishing touches and the serving of the hot dishes were left to the butler and waitress, who were none too willing to do anything outside their own restricted sphere, but whom Patty cajoled by smiles, till they were her abject slaves.
"Now go and tidy yourself up," Patty said to Bill, "and I will too, and see who can get down to the drawing-room first."
"Huh, I haven't to arrange a lot of furbelows. I'll beat you all to pieces."
But he little knew Patty's powers of haste in emergency, and when fifteen minutes later he descended to the drawing-room, where the guests were already arriving, Patty was there before him.
She was in a soft, frilly white frock, with knots of pale blue ribbon here and there, the knots holding sprays of tiny pink rosebuds. A blue ribbon banded her head, and save for an extra moist curliness in the soft rings of hair on her temples, no one could have guessed that the serene looking girl had worked hard and steadily for three hours in a kitchen.
"I surrender," whispered Bill; "you're the swiftest little piece of property I ever saw!"
"Please address me in less undignified language," said Patty, slowly waving a feather fan.
Bill bent a trifle lower, and murmured close to her ear, "MademoiselleApple Blossom, you are the sweetest thing in the world."
After luncheon they all strolled out on the verandas or through the gardens, and Patty and Mona slipped away to hold a council of war by themselves.
"You're a darling, Patty," Mona said, "and I was perfectly amazed at those wonderful messes you fixed up for luncheon."
"I don't approve of the term you apply to my confections!"
"Well, you know what I mean. They were all PERFECT, you fairly outdidFrancois."
"That's better. Now, Mona mine, we must acquire some servants, and that right speedily."
"Yes, but how? I think I'd better telephone the dinner guests not to come."
"I'd hate to do that. They're Adele's friends, and she's so anxious to have them come here."
"I know it, but what can we do? I won't let you cook again."
"No, I don't want to cook dinner. Luncheon seems different, somehow.But I do believe if I take Camilla, and scour all the plains aroundSpring Beach, I can catch something that can cook."
"I'd hate to have a poor cook."
"Yes, I know; I mean a first-class cook, though, perhaps not a chef."
"Well, go ahead, Patty, but you'll have to start at once. Your cook ought to be here by four, and it's almost three now."
"'I slip, I slide, I gleam, I glance,'—what comes next? Never mind,I'll just scoot."
Throwing on a white pongee dust cloak over her pretty frock, Patty declared herself ready to start, and Mona ordered an electric runabout brought from the garage.
But Miss Patricia Fairfield had no intention of going alone upon her quest. Walking up to a group of men talking on the veranda, she paused in front of Farnsworth.
"I want you," she said, calmly.
"I am yours," he responded with equal calm, and throwing away his cigar, turned to go with her.
"Don't you want me?" asked Captain Sayre, eagerly.
"And me?" added Cromer.
"I know you want me," put in Roger, "but you're too shy to say so."
"I want you all," said Patty, beaming on the group, "but I like you one at a time, and this is Little Billee's turn."
"What's up, my lady?" said Farnsworth, as he started the swift little car.
"Why, just this. Turn toward the main road, please. We've simply got to find a cook for Mona within an hour. I KNOW we can do it,—but, YOU tell ME how."
"Dead easy, child. We'll just go out and kidnap one."
"But cooks aren't found sitting in deserted baby carriages, to be tempted with candy. Now be sensible. Can't you think of any plan?"
"Not a plan! Can you?"
"Well, all I can think of is to go to see Susan."
"Susan it is! Where does the lady reside?"
"Down this way two blocks, then turn to the right."
"She is won! We are gone! Over bank,bush and scar,They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" quothyoung Lochinvar.'"
"I know Susan wouldn't come, but she may know of some one else," went on Patty. "Here we are; stop at this house."
"No, Miss Patty," said Susan, when the case was laid before her, "I don't rightly know of anny wan for the place. I'd go mesilf,—for I'm a good, fair cook,—but I can't be afther makin' them fiddly-faddly contraptions Miss Galbraith has."
"Well, Susan, if we can find a cook, will you come as helper? Just for a few days, till Miss Galbraith can get some people down from New York."
"Yes, Miss Patty; I'll do that. Now, I'm bethinkin' me, there's the Cartwrights' cook. She's a perfessional, and the family has gone away for three days, sure. Cuddent she do ye?"
"Fine!" cried Patty. "Where do the Cartwrights live?"
"Up the road a piece, an' thin down beyant a couple o' miles. Don't ye know the big grey stone house, wid towers?"
"Oh, yes; I know where you mean. And is the cook there? What's her name?"
"Yes, she's there. An' her name is O'Brien. It's Irish she is, but she knows more cookin' than manny Frinch jumpin'-jacks! If she'll go wid yez, I'll go."
"Well, I'll tell you, Susan. You go on over to Miss Galbraith's now. Tell her I sent you, and that I'll bring Mrs. O'Brien in about half an hour. Then you go to the kitchen and get things started."
"My, it's the foine head ye have on ye, Miss Patty! That's a grand plan!"
Susan turned back to her sister's house, and the motor-car darted forward.
"So far, so good," said Patty. "But now to get the O'Brien. Suppose she won't come?"
"Don't borrow trouble, Apple Blossom. Let's suppose she WILL come, and meanwhile let's enjoy our ride. It was dear of you to ask me to come with you."
"Well, you see, I didn't know but it might require force to persuade a cook to go back with us, and,—and you're so big, you know."
"Then I'm glad I'm so big, since brawn and strength win favour in my lady's sight."
"You ARE strong, aren't you?" and Patty looked at the giant beside her. "I think," she went on slowly, "your strength must be as the strength of ten."
"I hope so," and Farnsworth's voice took or a graver note, "and for the right reason."
Just then they came in sight of the Cartwright place.
"Good gracious!" cried Patty, as they drove in. "Here are four thousand dogs coming to meet us!"
Patty's estimate of their number was extravagant, but there WERE five or six dogs, and they were large and full-lunged specimens of their kind.
"I'm frightened," said Patty. "They're watchdogs, you know, turned loose because the people are away. Don't get out, Billee, they'll bit you! They're bloodhounds, I'm sure!"
"Then I'll play I'm Eliza crossing the ice, and you can sit here and beLittle Eva."
Patty had to laugh at his foolishness, but the dogs WERE fierce, and she was glad when at last his repeated rings at the doorbell were answered.
"Nobody at home," said a voice, as the door opened only a narrow crack, and but part of a face could be seen.
"Is that so?" said Bill, pleasantly. "But you're at home, aren't you?And perhaps you're the very one I want to see. Are you Mrs. O'Brien?"
"Yes, I am," and the door opened just a trifle wider; "but the family is away, an' me ordhers is to admit nobody at all, at all."
"Well, we don't want to be admitted, but won't you step outside a moment?"
Farnsworth emphasised his remarks by pushing the door wide open, and, partly out of curiosity, Mrs. O'Brien stepped outside. She was a small woman, but her face wore a look of grim determination, as if she were afraid of nothing. She quieted the barking dogs, and turned to Patty.
"Don't be afraid, Miss," she said; "they won't hurt ye, now that they see me a-talkin' to yez. Did ye want to see Mrs. Cartwright? She ain't home, an' won't be till day after tomorrah."
"No," said Patty, "I don't know Mrs. Cartwright. I want to see you. Susan Hastings, my own cook, said your people were away, and so perhaps you would go out to cook for a couple of days to oblige a neighbour."
"Oblige a neighbour, is it? Sure no lady would come afther another lady's cook, underhanded like, when the lady's away!"
Patty's face flushed with righteous indignation.
"It ISN'T underhanded!" she exclaimed, "You don't understand! I don't want you PERMANENTLY, but only for a day, or two days at most,—because our cook has left."
"Arrah, ma'am, you said your cook was Susan Hastings! Yer a quare leddy, I'm thinkin', an' yer husband here, is another! Sthrivin' to entice away a cook as is satisfied wid her place, and who manes honest by her employers!"
Farnsworth was grinning broadly at the assumption of his and Patty's relationship, but Patty was enraged at the implication of underhandedness.
"He ISN'T my husband!" she cried, "and I don't want a cook for myself, but for another lady!"
"Are ye runnin' an intilligence office, belike?"
"Here!" cried Bill, sharply. "Don't you speak like that to that lady! Now, you listen to me. We are both visitors at Miss Galbraith's. Her cook left suddenly, and we want you to come and cook for us, two days if you will,—but one day ANYWAY! See? Do you understand that? You're to go over to Miss Galbraith's now, with us, and cook dinner tonight. After dinner, you may do as you like about staying longer. We'll pay you well, and there's no reason whatever why you shouldn't oblige us."
At first the Irishwoman looked a little intimidated at Bill's manner and his gruff tones, but in a moment she flared up.
"I'll do nothin' of the sort! I'm left here in charge of this place, an' here I'll shtay!"
"Is there no one else to guard the place?"
"Yis, there's the second gardener, an' the coachman. I cooks their meals for them. The other servants is away for two days."
"Well, the second coachman and third gardener, or whatever their numbers are, can cook for themselves to-night. You're going with us,—see? With US,—NOW!"
"I'll not go, sor—" began Mrs. O'Brien, but Big Bill picked the little woman up in his arms, as if she had been a child.
"This is a case of kidnapping a cook, Patty," he said. "I told you I'd do it!"
Paying no attention to his struggling burden, Farnsworth pulled shut the door of the Cartwrights' house, shook it to make sure it closed with a snap lock, and then gently but firmly carried Mrs. O'Brien to the motor-car.
"Take the driving seat, Patty," he directed, and, as she did so, he deposited the cook in the seat beside her. Then he climbed into the small seat at the rear and remarked:
"Let her go, Patty; and unless you sit still and behave yourself, Mrs. O'Brien, you'll fall out and get damaged. Now be a nice cook, and make the best of this. You're kidnapped, you see,—you can't help yourself,—and so, what are you going to do about it?"
The cook sat bolt upright, her hard, unsmiling face looking straight ahead, and she replied, between clenched teeth, "Wanst I get out, I'll go straight back home, if it's a hundherd miles yez do be takin' me!"
"Oh, don't do that," and Patty's voice was sweet and coaxing. "Let me tell you something, Mrs. O'Brien. You know Susan Hastings,—what a nice woman she is. Well, once I was in a great emergency, worse even than to-day, and knowing the warm, kind hearts of the Irish, I went to Susan and asked her to help me out. And she did,—splendidly! Now, I know you've got that same warm Irish heart, but for some reason you don't WANT to help me out of my trouble. Won't you tell me WHAT that reason is?"
Mrs. O'Brien turned and looked at her.
"Me heart's warrum enough," she said, "an' I'd be glad to sarve the likes of such a pretty leddy as yersilf,—but, I won't shtand bein' carried off by kidnappers!"
"But listen," said Patty, who was beginning to hope she could cajole the woman into a good humour; "you must realise that the gentleman is a Western man. Now they do things very differently out there from what men do here. If they want anything or anybody they just TAKE them!"