CHAPTER XIV
A BIRTHDAY BREAKFAST
It was not quite twelve o’clock when the Swift Camilla swung through the gateway of “The Pebbles,” and around the long drive to the house. As might have been expected, the waiting group on the veranda greeted the returned runaways with various but vociferous exclamations.
Several of them said, “Why, Patty Fairfield!” Several others said, “Where have you been?”
Roger called out, cheerily: “You must have had a ripping good time! Wish I’d been along!”
Mr. Fairfield said only, “Patty!” and Mr. Hepworth said nothing at all, but looked at Patty with an unmistakable expression of reproof.
Philip Van Reypen took the brunt of the situation upon himself. He jumped out of the car, assisted Patty out, and led her straight to her father.
“Mr. Fairfield,” he said, “here’s your daughter, safe and sound, I’m happy to say. But I want you to decorate her with the Victoria Cross, or something just as good, for to-night she has proved herself a genius,—a wonderful genius! But for her ingenuity we should still be sitting in her little motor car, high and dry on a moonlit beach, listening to the wild waves. To her all the honour and glory, and, if there is any blame attached to our little excursion, it is mine. I kidnapped your daughter, but I fully meant to return her in ten or fifteen minutes, without ransom. I am no villain! But, owing to an accident, we were delayed.”
“I should think you were!” broke in Mr. Fairfield. “It is nearly midnight, and I am——”
“Papa,” interrupted Patty, “I know exactly what you are! You are surprised, astounded, amazed, astonished, dumfounded, taken aback, struck all of a heap, and completely flabbergasted! If you are anything else, you can let me know to-morrow. Meantime, we are two heroes, who returned with our shield, and on it, both! Incidentally we are starving, and, if we had some supper, we could relate our experiences in fine shape.”
Patty’s arms were round her father’s neck, and, with a wheedlesome expression, her eyes looked up into his, and somehow Mr. Fairfield’s indignation melted away.
“Patty’s quite right,” declared Nan, taking sides with the culprits. “Let’s all go to the dining-room, and then later we’ll hear about Patty’s heroism.”
“Mr. Van Reypen was just as much of a hero as I,” declared Patty, as, with her arm tucked through her father’s, she led the way to the dining-room, where a dainty little supper had been waiting for the return of the missing ones.
“It really wasn’t a matter of heroics,” said Philip Van Reypen; “it was only a simple, plain, everyday breakdown, caused by a separated battery strap. But the glorious part of it all was Miss Fairfield’s cleverness in finding a remedy for the trouble, when it seemed at first there was absolutely none.”
And then, while they ate salad and sandwiches, the interested audience listened to a full description of the breakdown, told in Philip Van Reypen’s most graphic style. In no way did he try to evade the blame for the escapade; he frankly admitted that he ought not to have taken Patty off without permission, but so winning was his frank manner, and so gleeful his enjoyment of the whole recital, that he won the sympathy of all present.
“It’s all right, Philip, my boy,” declared Mr. Fairfield, heartily. “I don’t blame you a bit for yielding to the temptation to slip out of the gate, and of course you could not foresee that peculiar accident. And I am proud of my girl for thinking of a way to fix the thing up! Tinfoil! Well, well! I doubt if I should have thought of that myself!”
Patty smiled and dimpled at the praises showered upon her from all sides, and she caught an approving smile from Mr. Hepworth, which showed his appreciation of what she had done.
“But I’m very sorry to have failed in my duty as hostess,” she said, demurely. “Did you manage to get along without me?”
“Oh, I was here,” said Nan, gaily, “and I kept the young people in order.”
“We did have a lovely time, Patty,” said Elise; “the walk along the beach was delightful; wasn’t it, Christine?”
“Yes,” replied Christine, slowly; “I never saw anything like it. I didn’t know there was so much beauty in the world.”
Mr. Hepworth smiled at the rapturous expression on the face of the Southern girl; and then he declared that it was quite time he and Mr. Van Reypen should depart for their own domicile.
“But you’re to come back here to-morrow morning for breakfast,” said Nan, hospitably. “We’ll breakfast at nine, and inaugurate Patty’s birthday, which I can assure you is going to be a pretty busy day for all concerned.”
“It’s lovely to have a birthday,” sighed Patty as, a few moments later, she went up the broad staircase with her arms around Elise and Christine, who were on either side of her.
“And this is such a lovely continuous performance,” said Elise. “We’ve had a lot of fun already, and the birthday isn’t really begun yet.”
“Well, it has really begun,” said Patty, “because it’s after midnight, and so it’s already to-morrow; but we won’t have any more celebration until breakfast is ready. So good-night, girls, and be sure to be up on time for my birthday breakfast.”
The girls obeyed this parting injunction, but Patty herself overslept, and it was half-past eight in the morning when she opened her eyes to find her two girl friends hovering over her.
“Wake up, sleepy-head!” said Elise, pulling Patty’s curls. “I say, Patty, how jolly it is for you to sleep out here! But don’t you almost freeze?”
“Oh, no, indeed! I have so much bed-covering that I sleep warm as toast; but I love to feel the sea air blow on my face.”
Patty’s sleeping veranda was almost like a room. Partially enclosed on three sides, the front was open to the sea. There were broad wicker blinds to be drawn at will, but, unless in case of a very strong sea breeze, they were seldom drawn.
The girls were in their kimonos, and Patty sent them flying as she sprang up herself.
“Go on, you two, and finish dressing; I’ll be ready before you are, now!”
Elise and Christine scampered away, and Patty began to dress with all speed. And by nine o’clock she went downstairs, fresh and dainty, in a white, embroidered muslin frock, with knots of light-blue ribbon.
Elise and Christine also wore whitelingeriedresses; Elise’s being much befrilled and adorned, while Christine’s was far more simple. But each was suited to the type of girl who wore it, and when Nan appeared, also in a white gown, it was a picturesque quartette that stood on the veranda looking at the sunlit sea.
“Here they come!” cried Elise, as Mr. Hepworth and Mr. Van Reypen appeared round the corner. “And, Patty, see! They’re bringing presents to you! Just look at their arms full of tissue paper!”
Sure enough, both the men carried large parcels elaborately done up in tissue paper and bright ribbons. They came up laughing, and with merry birthday greetings to the queen of the occasion.
“Breakfast is ready,” said Nan. “We were just waiting for you. Bring those impressive-looking paper affairs with you, to the table; there’s quite a collection there already.”
And, indeed, there was! The whole party took their seats at the large round table, and at Patty’s place was a veritable mountain of white-wrapped parcels.
“I’m overcame!” she exclaimed. “It’s quite enough to have all you lovely people come to visit me, without having gifts besides!”
“Do open them, Patty!” cried Elise. “I’m crazy to see what they are!”
“Just for that I’ll open yours first, Elise,” said Patty, laughing. “Which is it?”
“This one,” replied Elise, touching a large parcel; “and it’s perfectly heavenly, Patty! I did it, every stitch, myself!”
“I did every stitch of mine, too,” murmured Roger, “if that makes a present more acceptable.”
Patty untied Elise’s gift, and it proved to be an embroidered muslin hat, very frilly as to brim, and ornamented with tiny, pink-satin rose-buds.
“How lovely!” cried Patty. “Thank you, a thousand times, Elise. The idea of your making those billions of stitches for poor, wuthless me!”
“Wouldn’t you make one for me?” asked Kenneth, “if it’s a mark of such devoted friendship?”
“I’ll make you two,” declared Elise, with a smiling glance at him. “Put it on, Patty; let’s see how it looks.”
So Patty put on the pretty frilled hat, and it formed a most appropriate frame around her golden halo of hair, and her flushed rose-leaf face. She had never looked prettier, and everybody present gave back an answering smile to the dancing eyes and dimpled mouth that challenged it.
Philip Van Reypen said, “By Jove!” under his breath, and Roger, who overheard, murmured, “Yes, and then some!”
Then Patty unwrapped her other gifts. Christine’s came next, and it was a beautiful water colour of her own, in a simple, appropriate frame.
“It’s exquisite, Christine dear,” said Patty, “and I just love it! How you are getting on! This is a real work of art, isn’t it, Mr. Hepworth?”
“It is truly good work,” replied Gilbert Hepworth, and the approving glance he gave Christine brought the colour to her cheeks, and made her drop her eyes.
“Don’t tell her how lovely it is,” said Patty, laughing; “Christine can’t stand praise in public. Wait till I get you alone, girlie, and then you’ll see if I have a grateful nature!”
“Oh, open mine next!” cried Roger. “If you’re going to take us apart and tell us of your gratitude alone, I want to go right now!”
“You can’t,” said Patty. “You have to be thanked right before all the rest of the people! But this is great! You know I love these crazy things.”
Patty had opened Roger’s gift, and it was a grotesque bronze figure, representing some strange Japanese god. It was fascinating in its very ugliness, and was a really beautiful specimen of Japanese craft.
“You’re not eating any breakfast, Patty,” said Mr. Hepworth, suddenly. “Let me undo the next parcel, while you try some of this delicious omelette. I can vouch for its quality.”
“All right,” said Patty, “Iamstarving. And as a reward of merit, Mr. Hepworth, I’ll let you untie your own gift.”
“Good! I love to be in the limelight! Now this is mine, and may you enjoy it many times when I am far away.”
Then Mr. Hepworth displayed a very beautiful and complete automobile lunch basket, with fittings for two. It was of the finest design and workmanship, and the appointments were of the newest and best.
“Just what I want!” cried Patty. “Now I can go out for a whole-day picnic. And it’s such a lovely picnic basket! Mr. Hepworth, you do think of the loveliest things!”
The grateful glance that Patty gave him was met by one equally friendly, and, in order to escape drawing further attention to himself, Mr. Hepworth quickly opened the next parcel.
This proved to be Philip Van Reypen’s gift, and, as it was being opened, he said: “I, too, should have liked to bring you a really worthwhile gift; but I felt, Miss Fairfield, that I’m too much of a stranger to indulge in anything but the conventional ‘books, candy, or flowers.’ So I have brought you only a box of candy, but I hope you will have many happy returns of to-day, when I shall be an old friend, and can give you anything I choose.”
He looked enviously at the other men present, who had known Patty so much longer than he had; but, when his box of candy was finally released from its wrappings, everybody exclaimed in admiration. For it was by no means a simple box, but was really a French jewel case, whose various compartments were lined with tufted blue satin, and, though now filled with bonbons, were intended to hold trinkets. The outside was of French brocade, decorated with gold filigree and tiny French flowers. Altogether it was an exquisite piece of handicraft, and yet Mr. Van Reypen had, after all, only presented the conventional “box of candy.”
Nan was greatly pleased at his cleverness. She had liked Philip Van Reypen from the first, and he had proved himself a cultured and intelligent gentleman in every respect.
Kenneth’s gift was a fan; a point-lace mount, with pearl sticks. He had showed taste in the selection, and Patty was greatly pleased with it. Indeed, she was enraptured with all her lovely gifts, and fairly bubbled over with enthusiastic thanks.
“This is my present, Patty,” said Nan, producing a very long box. “It was too big to put on the table with the others, so please accept it, with the wish that it may prove useful some day.”
The long box contained a white-lace parasol, which was just the thing to be carried with Patty’s pretty summer costumes.
“Oh, Nan, what a duck you are!” she cried. “I suppose this is from you and father both, as I don’t see anything else from him.”
“Not so, not so, my child,” said Mr. Fairfield, taking a small box from his pocket. “On your nineteenth birthday I want to give you a gift all by myself.”
He handed Patty the box, and in it was a pearl ring. It was a beautiful pearl, and not too large for a young girl to wear. Everybody admired it, and Patty slipped it on her finger, and then, holding her lace parasol open above her head, she fanned herself with Kenneth’s fan. As she still wore Elise’s embroidered hat, she made a pretty picture of a typical summer girl.
“You look like a girl on a calendar,” said Roger; “rather fussily gotten up, but picturesque in a way!”
They all laughed at Roger’s speech, which really fitted the case, and then, breakfast being over, they gathered up Patty’s treasures and adjourned to the hall.
CHAPTER XV
A MORNING SWIM
“Now,” said Nan, “we must lay our plans. We’re going to celebrate Patty’s birthday, all day long; but there isn’t very much time in a day, after all, so you must all choose what you think would be the most fun to do. We’re going to the Country Club for luncheon, which is a motor trip of about twenty miles. Then we’ll come back, and this evening there will be a little dinner dance, which is, of course, the real birthday party. Now you’ve about two hours before we start this morning. What do you want to do?”
“I’m for a dip in the ocean,” declared Philip Van Reypen. “Does that hit anybody else?”
“Me!” exclaimed Roger, and, “Me, too,” declared Elise.
“I’d love to bathe,” said Christine, “if it isn’t too cold. Is the water chilly, now, Patty?”
“It is a little,” admitted Patty; “at least, it was day before yesterday. I haven’t been in since. But to-day is a whole lot warmer. I don’t believe it will be too cold, Christine.”
“Let’s all go in,” proposed Elise, “and then, if it is too chilly, we can turn around and come right out again.”
This plan suited, and the girls ran away for their bathing suits.
Patty’s was white, trimmed with light blue, and was exceedingly becoming. Her gold curls were tied up in a light-blue silk handkerchief, from which a few ringlets persisted in escaping, though she kept tucking them back.
“Let them hang down, Patty,” said Roger; “the salt water won’t take the curl out!”
“No,” said Patty, laughing, “it makes it curl tighter than ever!”
“I envy you that,” said Christine. “I always wanted curly hair.”
“You needn’t,” said Patty. “Your soft, sleek bands are much better suited to your face than my corkscrews would be.”
Mr. Hepworth laughed at this, for Patty’s curls when wet turned into veritable corkscrews, which hung from her temples like those of an old-fashioned belle.
Christine’s rather plain bathing suit was of navy blue, trimmed with white braid, but Elise was gorgeous in a suit of scarlet and black, with her hair tied up in a red bandanna.
Nan’s suit was entirely of black, and was both pretty and becoming; and, as Mr. Van Reypen surveyed the group, he said: “Well, youarea bunch of naiads! You look like one of Sorolla’s pictures, except that we haven’t any of his pumpkin-coloured light and purply-green shadows.”
“H’m!” commented Hepworth; “much you know about Sorolla’s work, if you express it in those terms.”
“Well, you see I’m not an artist,” said Van Reypen, for Mr. Hepworth’s tone was so good-natured he couldn’t feel annoyed.
“Who can swim?” Philip went on. “I’m for a long dash out to that farthest buoy.”
“I can swim,” returned Patty, “but I won’t go as far out as that buoy. I’ll swim part way.”
“Come on, then;” and the two splashed into the breakers. Patty was a good swimmer, and there was not much surf that morning, so she had no trouble in keeping up with Philip for a fairly good distance. Then she said: “Now I’m going to turn back, Mr. Van Reypen. I’ve learned by experience that it is better to turn back while we can.”
Van Reypen looked at her reproachfully as they swam slowly side by side. “You called me Philip, last night,” he said.
“I know it;” and Patty smiled roguishly; “but, you see, that was under stress of a great emergency. I scarcely realised what I was doing,—and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“I’ll forgive you only on condition that you never call me Mr. Van Reypen again, and that you give me permission to call you Patty.”
“Aren’t you demanding a great deal?”
“Yes, I am, indeed; but you are so generous-minded that I have a hope of your consent.”
“I’ll race you to shore for it,” said Patty. “If you win, first names go; if I win, we shall continue with the more formal names.”
“All right; it’s an unfair advantage, but I’m going to take it. Of course, I can beat you swimming to shore, but I’ll lag behind a little, and let you think you’re winning, and then pass you with a grand finish.”
“Oh, I don’t know!” said Patty, teasingly, and then they both headed toward shore and swam rapidly.
As he had proposed, Philip kept a few lengths behind her, meanwhile gasping and shouting that he was almost exhausted, and that he feared he could never reach land.
Patty knew this was merely joking, and that soon, with a few strong strokes, he would pass her and come in a long distance ahead. But she had no intention of being beaten so easily. When nearly halfway to land, she saw Kenneth swimming toward her. As they met, she said, “Turn round and swim with me, Ken; quick!”
He did so, and Patty went on, talking rapidly: “I want you to do something for me, Ken. Let me go on, and you turn and delay Mr. Van Reypen. I don’t care what you do,—talk to him, duck him, or tease him in any way,—but somehow or other keep him back until I reach shore, and don’t let him know you’re doing it purposely.”
“All right, count on me;” and Kenneth turned, and circled leisurely around, until he came face to face with Philip Van Reypen. “Hello!” he said. “You’re a ripping good swimmer! I want to show you a new stunt I learned lately. Mighty few could appreciate it, as I know you can.”
“Some other time, Harper,” hastily spoke Mr. Van Reypen. “I want to speak to Miss Fairfield just now.”
“Oh, she won’t mind,” said Kenneth, taking care to keep directly in Van Reypen’s way. “You see, you start sideways and then——”
“Oh, I say, Harper, wait till some other time! Let me pass, please. I’ll be back in ten minutes, and glad to learn your new trick.”
“Well, you needn’t be stuffy about it!”
“Oh, I’m not stuffy, my boy, only——”
“Then I’ll show you now. You see, you swim on one side;” and, before Van Reypen realised what was happening to him, Kenneth had grasped his arm and gently but steadily pushed him around until he was headed out to sea again.
At this moment Patty reached the beach, as Kenneth saw out of the corner of his eye, and, suddenly changing his tone, he said: “By George! Van Reypen, I believe you were in earnest! In that case, I’m sorry I insisted. Of course, I’ll teach you the trick some other time! Go ahead, if you want to speak to Miss Fairfield. She’s right over there.”
Thus disarmed, Philip couldn’t answer Kenneth angrily, and, suppressing his chagrin, he said: “All right, old chap, and thank you. We’ll go for a swim together, to-morrow morning, and then I’ll be glad to learn your new stunt.”
Kenneth felt a little ashamed of his subterfuge, for he was of a frank, honest nature. But he had done it for Patty, and he felt sure that the whole thing was some merry jest.
Freed from his tormentor, Van Reypen struck out swiftly for the shore, and the next moment, throwing himself on to a big breaker, he was washed up on the beach at Patty’s side.
“How do you do, Mr. Van Reypen?” said that mischievous damsel, smiling at him under her corkscrew curls.
“It wasn’t fair!” growled Philip; “I was delayed. Harper stopped me, and I couldn’t get away from him!”
“Oh, that’s a pretty excuse,” chaffed Patty. “I heard you say that you were almost exhausted and out of breath, and youwerepuffing like a whale!”
“Oh, that was mere foolery! I didn’t mean a word of it! I’m not a bit blown. I could swim for miles!”
“That all sounds very well, but I think you’ll have to admit that I won the race.”
“The race is not always to the swift,—but I admit gracefully that you did reach the beach first, and I herewith relinquish all hope of ever being allowed the privilege I had requested.”
“Oh, don’t give up too easily!” said Patty, though she well knew that his speech was not made in earnest.
“Come along, Patty!” cried Nan. “Unless you want to go motoring in a wet bathing suit, you must scamper into some dry clothes. Come along with us, we’re all going now.”
The crowd of bathers dispersed, and, as there was need for expedition, in less than a half an hour they reassembled, clad in civilian’s garb and all ready for the picnic.
The girls’ light frocks were covered with voluminous motor-coats, and they all wore pretty motor-hoods or bonnets of soft-coloured silks.
Three cars were necessary to accommodate the luncheon party, and it was quite a gala procession that started from “The Pebbles.”
First was Mr. Fairfield’s own big car, driven by Miller, and containing Mr. Fairfield and Nan, Christine and Mr. Hepworth.
This was followed by a runabout, which Mr. Fairfield had engaged for the occasion, and which was driven by Roger.
This car held two in front, with a small rear seat for another. Philip Van Reypen sat next to Roger, and Elise sat alone in the small back seat, saying she had always wanted to try such a position, but had never before had opportunity.
“Hang on, then, Sis,” warned Roger, as they started, “for I don’t want to stop and run back to pick you up all the time.”
“No danger,” said Elise, merrily; “but it is fun! I feel like an enthroned princess.”
“You look like one, too,” said Van Reypen, getting in beside Roger; “and we are your two Gold-sticks in Waiting.”
The Swift Camilla brought up the rear of the procession, and in it were Patty and Kenneth. Kenneth had begged for this arrangement, as he said he had not yet had a ride in Patty’s new car.
“Neither have I,” declared Mr. Hepworth, and, after a moment’s consideration, Patty said that she would take Kenneth half the way and then exchange him for Mr. Hepworth.
“And nothing could be fairer nor that,” declared Kenneth, as he accepted his fate.
It was a perfect day for motoring—bright, clear, and not too cool. Spring flowers were in bloom in the gardens, and palms and shrubbery, carefully kept, made the lawns picturesque.
“Ideal place to spend a summer,” said Kenneth to Patty, as they flew along, “and great roads for motoring.”
“Yes, it is,” agreed Patty. “The others want to go to the mountains in August, but I’m just crazy to stay here all summer. Perhaps I can persuade them to go off by themselves, and leave me here. I could have some one to chaperon me.”
“Of course you could; that would be gay. I expect Aunt Rachel would come, if you wanted her.”
“She’s a dear old thing,—nobody I’d like better! But I haven’t dared broach the subject yet. Don’t say anything about it.”
“All right, I won’t. But I say, Patty, what was that deal you had on with Van Reypen? He was awful mad when I held him up out in the water.”
“Oh, it was nothing but foolishness!” said Patty, laughing at the recollection. “I promised him that, if he beat me to the shore, we’d call each other by our first names,—otherwise not.”
“That was anicewager!” exclaimed Kenneth, in disgruntled tones. “Why, Patty, you don’t know that chap well enough to call him by his first name!”
“Nonsense, Ken; I’m not grown-up and formal.”
“Well, he is!”
Patty laughed mischievously. “He is grown-up, but he isn’t a bit formal.”
“I should say not! I can tell you I didn’t like the way he carted you off last night!”
“Oh, Kenneth, what a goose you are! You know the whole story of that performance. He couldn’t help the strap breaking, and, if my father didn’t bother about it, I don’t think you need to!”
“That’s the same as telling me it’s none of my business.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it exactly that way, but, all the same, it isn’t! Don’t you like Mr. Van Reypen?”
“Yes, I do; he’s a rattling good chap. But I don’t want him coming down here and monopolising you for motoring and swimming and everything else. I s’pose you’ll give him every other dance, to-night.”
Patty drew down the corners of her lips and made a sobbing sound in her throat, as if she were on the verge of bursting into tears.
“D-don’t sco-o-ld me, K-kenneth!” she pleaded, in a voice which she meant to sound tearful, but which was choking with laughter, and didn’t fool Kenneth a bit.
“You’re a little coquette, that’s what you are, Patty; and I won’t stand it! I knew you long before Van Reypen did, and he’s not going to cut me out, I can tell you!”
“Good gracious, Kenneth! I should say he wasn’t! Why, he’s only an acquaintance, and you’re one of my oldest friends!”
“Of course I am;” and Patty’s hearty tone made Kenneth feel a little ashamed of his flash of jealousy.
“Well, then, don’t let me hear any more such foolish talk! Here I am taking you ridy-by in my dear little car, and, instead of appreciating it, you scold me all to pieces!”
“Forgive me, Patty; I am a brute. But somehow Van Reypen has such a way with him. He acts as if he owned you and this car——”
“And ‘The Pebbles’ and father and Nan,” supplemented Patty, going off into a peal of laughter. “Well, Ken, I can’t see any way for you to get even with him but to act as if you owned us all yourself.”
“I can’t do it,” said Kenneth; “I haven’t that arrogance of nature.”
“What a pity!” said Patty, looking at him, with laughing eyes.
CHAPTER XVI
A CHANGE OF PARTNERS
Their foolish little squabble over, Patty and Kenneth were as good chums as ever, and they skimmed along in the same satisfied friendliness they always felt when together.
All too soon, in Kenneth’s opinion, they had traversed half their journey, and reached the place where it had been arranged that Patty was to change her companion and give Mr. Hepworth his ride.
The big car was waiting for them as they came along, and, though Kenneth said “Confound it!” to Patty, under his breath, no one else heard it, and he exchanged places with Hepworth with a smiling, agreeable countenance.
The transfer being effected, the two cars started on again.
Patty drove, and Mr. Hepworth watched her with admiration and interest.
“You’re a wonderful child,” he said; “you can do almost anything you turn your hand to.”
“Indeed, I can’t,” returned Patty; “I can’t paint like Christine.”
“Oh, well, that’s a special talent of hers. Your special talent is your singing. But I mean you can do all sorts of other things, like guessing puzzles and running motor cars.”
“Yes, so I can; but don’t forget that, if you hadn’t guessed that last charade for me, and an unfair one at that, I never should have had this car. So you see the car is partly yours.”
“Well, I’ll take out my share in going riding with you.”
“Wouldn’t you like to drive it yourself, some day, Mr. Hepworth? You could take Christine out.”
“Christine! I’d rather take you.”
“Rather takemethan Christine Farley?” Patty’s blue eyes opened wide, and it was plain to be seen that her surprise at this statement was unfeigned, and by no means a bit of coquetry. But it piqued Gilbert Hepworth, and he answered, a little shortly:
“You know I would! Why do you pretend otherwise?”
“I don’t know any such thing! Christine is your special friend.”
“And aren’t you my special friend?”
“Why, not exactly;” and Patty’s cheeks dimpled as she smiled. “I’m your special friend’s daughter. Isn’t daddy your special friend?”
“Yes, of course;” and Mr. Hepworth looked decidedly cross, as he always did when reminded of the difference of age between himself and Patty,—a thing which Patty never seemed to forget.
“But just now,” he went on, “you’re so absorbed in your special friend, Van Reypen, that you have no thought of anybody else.”
“For the land’s sake!” exclaimed Patty; “and that’s an expression I use only on the strongest provocation! But I’ll tell you something, Mr. Hepworth,”—and she looked at him squarely,—“when Kenneth Harper was with me just now, he held me up on account of what he called my friendship for Mr. Van Reypen! Now, if you’re going to do the same thing, I give you fair warning, I’ll put you out and I’ll take Philip Van Reypen in this car! So there, now!”
Mr. Hepworth laughed at the flashing eyes, and the rose-flushed cheeks that faced him, very much like an angry kitten.
“Forgive us both, Patty,” he said, smiling in spite of himself at the ridiculous situation. “You see, the truth is Kenneth and I are both jealous of your new friend. And you’ll probably find that Roger is in the same unenviable frame of mind.”
“Fiddle-de-dee, and fiddlesticks, and fiddle-strings!” exclaimed Patty; “you people all make me tired, you do. As you know, I adore all my friends, and I want them all to adore me, and, when I make new friends, they’ve all got to adore each other, too, and that’s all there is about that! But don’t you worry over old Roger. He’s fallen a victim to the charms of Mona Galbraith. I never was so surprised in my life! You know, I don’t like that girl very much, and last night, as soon as Roger met her, they immediately fell into a deep friendship!”
“Why don’t you like her?”
“Oh, she isn’t exactly our sort. She’s a little forward, a little pushing, and a little lacking in certain varieties of good taste. But she’s warm-hearted and generous, and, if she had had proper training, would have been an awfully nice girl.”
“Can’t you help her, Patty?”
“Yes, Mr. Hepworth, I can; but I don’t want to.”
“Why don’t you want to?”
“Only because I’m a horrid thing! I know that, if I begin to help her, she’ll want to be helped every minute in the day, and I’ll have my hands full. I suppose I’m lazy and selfish, but I do hate to take that girl’s bringing-up on my shoulders.”
“I don’t blame you altogether, Patty;” and Gilbert Hepworth smiled at her gravely, yet kindly. “But don’t you exaggerate a little bit? I know what you mean. I saw last night what insistent ways Miss Galbraith has, and I know her demands on your time and attention would be incessant. But, Patty, think how much you have!—not only worldly goods, but love and care and protection and interested sympathy. Isn’t it your duty to do what you can for this strange girl, thrown so definitely in your way?”
“Sheisin my way,” said Patty, pouting; “very much so!”
“And do you realise,” went on Mr. Hepworth, very seriously now, “that, just because of all this love and praise and appreciation you receive, you run a pretty strong chance of becoming selfish and self-centred?”
“Mr. Hepworth! I do believe you are lecturing me!”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ve done it before, and never has it failed to produce a good effect. I’m very fond of you, Patty, as you know perfectly well; and I cannot bear to see your sunny and generous nature spoiled by indolence or thoughtlessness on your part. Now I’m going to drop this lecture right straight now. I’ve said all that is necessary, and I know it has sunk in your heart deeply, as I intended it to. And I know that you will overcome your dislike and disinclination for the work, but that you will honestly and definitely try to do all you can for that girl, and be all you can to her.”
For a moment Patty was silent, and then she said, in a low voice: “You are right, Mr. Hepworth, as you always are. I understand all you have said, and all you have meant, and I make you no promises; but I promise myself to do all I can for Mona Galbraith, to help her in the way she needs help.”
“That’s my little trump!” exclaimed Mr. Hepworth, in a voice which betrayed a thrill of real emotion, and then he quickly changed the subject and called Patty’s attention to a picturesque bit of landscape in the middle distance.
The rest of their ride they chatted in a lighter key, with no reference to duty, and, when they reached the Country Club, they were both laughing merrily as they joined the rest of the party.
“I’m as hungry as a hunter!” cried Patty, springing from her car. “I wish I’d brought Mr. Hepworth’s luncheon basket, well filled, along with me.”
“You’ll have luncheon enough, Puss,” said her father, “and, as we’re a little later than I expected, we’ll have it served right away.”
The Country Club House was an elaborate one, with broad verandas and large, high-ceilinged halls and rooms. The walls bore the usual decorations of antlers and other trophies of the chase, and the appointments were luxurious and comfortable.
Patty had never been to just such a place before, and was interested in it all.
“Can’t we become members, father?” she asked, as its plan and scope were explained to her.
“Next year, perhaps, my dear. But this summer we’ll content ourselves with coming over here occasionally, by the courtesy of my friends.”
Luncheon was served in a small dining-room, which they had quite to themselves. The viands were most attractive and proved more than acceptable to the hungry motorists.
After luncheon, they wandered about the beautiful grounds, and some of them went for a row on the lake, while some others had a short game of tennis.
Patty had such a good time that she was sorry when her father called them to go home.
“We just fly from one kind of fun to another!” exclaimed Elise, as they made ready to start. “Mayn’t I ride home with you, Patty?”
“No, no, Miss Farrington,” said Philip Van Reypen, overhearing her; “it’s my turn to ride with Miss Fairfield. We’re going to put you and Mr. Harper in the roadster, with Mr. Hepworth behind to see that you don’t fall out.”
As usual, Mr. Van Reypen’s audacity carried the day; and, too, Elise had no objections to driving home with Kenneth. This left Roger and Christine to go in the big car with the two elder Fairfields, and the arrangement was fairly satisfactory all around.
But, as Patty and Mr. Van Reypen were about to start, Roger came up to speak to them.
“You must play fair and square, Patty,” he said. “You divvied up the ride, coming over, and you must do the same, going back. You take Mr. Van Reypen as far as that halfway place, and then you’ve got to exchange him for me.”
“All right, Roger, I will; it’s only fair that all you boys should have a spin with Camilla in turn.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Philip Van Reypen, as they sped away. “I don’t think you need to change partners on this short trip.”
“’Deed I will!” declared Patty. “I’ve had enough of being scolded because I don’t play fair. Now when we get to that halfway place, you know where I mean, that tumble-down house with the vines all over it, I’m going to put you out and take Roger in.”
“All right,” said Philip, humbly. “But you won’t do it until we do reach the tumble-down old house, will you?”
“No, I won’t,” agreed Patty.
After a while, Philip asked that he be allowed to drive, and, as Patty was quite willing to be an idle passenger, they changed seats.
“I’m sorry that I have to call you Miss Fairfield,” said Philip, resignedly, as they were once more spinning along. “It’s so formal it takes away all the pleasure of our conversation.”
“Too bad,” said Patty, demurely; “but do you know I rather like formality, Mr. Van Reypen.”
“I’m glad you do, Miss Fairfield. It’s a charming day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Mr. Van Reypen; delightful,” returned Patty, and then the conversation lagged.
“I want to tell you something,” said Patty, suddenly. “I don’t feel quite honest, and I want to ’fess up.”
“What is it, Miss Fairfield?”
“Why, it’s just this. You know this morning, when Kenneth delayed you, and you lost our race?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I asked him to delay you, on purpose.”
“You did? You little rascal! Why, that was downright dishonesty! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
“Yes, I am,” said Patty, hanging her head, and looking like a lovely penitent. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“No, I never can!” Van Reypen’s tone was very stern, and Patty was amazed at the serious way he took what she thought was a joke.
“Oh, truly! can’t you forgive me?”
“No! Inevershall!” and he glared into Patty’s upturned face with an expression so savage that it suddenly dawned on Patty that he was fooling, after all!
With a beseeching glance and a drooping curve to her lips, Patty then murmured, in low tones, “Can’t you ever forgive me,—Philip?”
“Patty! Of course I can! And there’s nothing to forgive, you little rogue! But now you’re going to call me Philip, all the time, aren’t you?”
“I thpothe I am,” said Patty, foolishly, and in an idiotic tone, and then they both giggled.
“And now can you be entertaining?” asked Patty, briskly; “and not just sit up and remark that it is a charming day?”
“But the day is more charming than ever!” declared Philip. “And I must emphasise the fact.”
“But, goodness gracious me! wherever is that halfway place? Have we passed the tumble-down old house with vines clambering all over it?”
“No, we haven’t passed it yet,” said Philip, innocently.
“We ought to reach it soon,—I’m sure it’s time.”
“How complimentary you are! Does the way seem so long?”
“It doesn’t seem so long, but it seems strange. I don’t remember these houses. Did we pass them on the way over?”
“You must have been so busy driving the car you didn’t see them.”
“Nonsense! I’ve never been this way before in my life! You’ve taken the wrong road, and you’ve done it on purpose,—Philip!”
“So I have, Patty! At least it’s a different road, but it isn’t a wrong road. It’s just as direct to ‘The Pebbles’ as the other road, but it has the advantage of not passing by the clambering house with the tumble-down vines!”
“Oh, you’ve done it, so we’d slip Roger!”
“Of course I did! Clever of me, wasn’t it? Oh, you haven’t the entire monopoly of clever ideas, if youdidmend your motor car with chocolate!”
Philip was gleefully chuckling at his successful ruse, and, when Patty realised that she couldn’t help herself, she laughed, too.
“Roger won’t mind, anyway,” she said; “he’s such a good-natured old duck. And I’ll make it up to him by taking him out for the whole day to-morrow, on a picnic with my new lunch basket. I’ve been wanting to try that lovely basket, and see if it will carry a picnic for two.”
Philip’s face suddenly lost its jovial smile. “There’llbea ‘picnic for two,’ if you cut up any such trick as that! And you and young Farrington will see what kind of a picnic I mean! Why, Patty, you’re hostess of this house party of yours. You can’t desert all your other guests,—and go skylarking off with only one of them.”
“Unless it’s you,” said Patty, with a demure glance at him.
“Yes, unless it’s me,” said Philip, smiling broadly.