CHAPTER VICONFIDENCES
Mona went home with Patty to dinner, as she often did when the girls had been together during the afternoon.
At the dinner table the elder Fairfields were greatly entertained by the account of the first Happy Saturday Afternoon.
“But aren’t you afraid,” Mr. Fairfield asked, “that such unaccustomed luxuries will make those people discontented with their own conditions?”
“Now, father Fairfield,” exclaimed Patty, “you ought to know better than that! you might as well say that a man in a prison ought never to see a ray of sunlight, because it would make him more discontented with his dark jail.”
“That’s true,” agreed Nan; “I think it’s lovely to give these people such a pleasure, and if I can help in any way, Patty, I’ll be glad to.”
“And then it’s the memory of it,” said Mona.
“You know yourself how pleasant it is to look back and remember any pleasure you may have had; and when it’s only one, and such a big one, the pleasure of remembrance is even greater.”
“That’s good philosophy, Mona,” said Mr. Fairfield, approvingly, “and I take back what I said. I think the plans you girls have made are excellent; and I, too, will be glad to help if I can.”
“Other people have offered to help us,” began Mona, but Patty interrupted her, saying: “We don’t want any help from people individually. I mean, father, if you will lend us the car, and things like that, we’ll be glad, of course. But we don’t want any personal assistance in our plans.”
“All right, chickadee; far be it from me to intrude. But I thought perhaps if you wanted to make a little excursion, say, to see the Statue of Liberty, or even to go to the circus, you might like a man along with you as a Courier General.”
“That’s just what Mr. Lansing said!” exclaimed Mona, which was the very remark Patty had been fearing.
“That’s just what we’renotgoing to do!”she declared. “We’re only going to places where we can go by ourselves, or if we need a chaperon, we’ll take Nan. But we don’t want any men in on this deal.”
“I don’t see why,” began Mona, but Patty promptly silenced her by saying, “Youdosee why. Now, Mona, don’t say anything more about it. There isn’t any circus now, and it’s time enough when it comes, to decide about going to it; and I don’t want to go, anyway. There are lots of things nicer than a circus.”
“Mr. Lansing said he’d send us a box for the Hippodrome, some Saturday afternoon,” said Mona, a little diffidently.
“That’s awfully kind of him,” said Nan. “I should think you girls would be delighted with that.”
“A box,” and Patty looked scornful. “Why, a box only holds six, so with us four, we could only invite two guests. I don’t think much of that scheme!”
“I’ll donate a box also,” said Mr. Fairfield. “You can get them adjoining, and with two of you girls in one and two in the other, you can invite eight guests.”
Patty hesitated. The plan sounded attractive, and she quickly thought that she could inviteRosy for one of the guests and give the boy a Happy Saturday Afternoon. But she didn’t want to accept anything from Mr. Lansing, though she couldn’t quite bring herself to say so, frankly.
“What’s the matter, Patty?” asked Nan. “You don’t like the idea of the Hippodrome, though I don’t see why.”
“Idolike it,” said Patty, “but we can’t decide these things in a minute. We ought to have a meeting of the club and talk it over.”
“Nonsense,” said Mona. “You know very well, Patty, it isn’t a formal club. I’m going to accept these two Hippodrome boxes, and tell the girls that we can each invite two guests. The Hippodrome show is lovely this year, and anybody would like it, whether children or grown-ups. And we’re much obliged to you, Mr. Fairfield.”
“You’re taking a great deal upon yourself, Mona,” said Patty. “You’re not president of the club.”
“Neither are you.”
“Well,I’mnot dictating how things shall be run.”
“Well, Iam! So all you’ll have to do, is to run along with me.”
Mona was so laughingly good-natured that Patty’s serious face broke into a smile, too. She was annoyed at the idea of being under obligation to Mr. Lansing, but, after all, it was hardly fair to stand in the way of eight people’s pleasure. So she surrendered gracefully.
“All right, Mona,” she said; “we’ll have the Hippodrome party. I know one guest I shall invite, who’s sure to enjoy it. He’s a boy about fourteen, and the funniest thing you ever saw.”
“I’d like to take children, too,” said Mona; “but I don’t know many. I think I’ll ask Celeste’s two little sisters.”
It was characteristic of Patty not to dwell on anything unpleasant, so having made up her mind to accept Mr. Lansing’s favour, she entered heartily into the plan for the next party.
But after dinner, when the girls were alone in Patty’s boudoir, she said to Mona, seriously, “You know I didn’t want to take that box from Mr. Lansing.”
“Of course I know it, Patty,” and Mona smiled, complacently. “But I made you do it, didn’t I? I knew I should in the end, but your father helped me unexpectedly, by offering asecond box. Now, Pattikins, you may as well stop disliking Mr. Lansing. He’s my friend, and he’s going to stay my friend. He may have some faults, but everybody has.”
“But, Mona, he isn’t our sort at all. I don’t seewhyyou like him.”
“He mayn’t be your sort, but he’s mine; and I like him because I like him! That’s the only reason that anybody likes anybody. You think nobody’s any good unless they have all sorts of aristocratic ancestry! Like that Van Reypen man who’s always dangling after you.”
“He isn’t dangling now,” said Patty. “I haven’t seen him since my party.”
“You haven’t! Is he mad at you?”
“Yes; he and Roger are both mad at me; and all on account of your old Mr. Lansing!”
“Yes, Roger’s mad at me, too, on account of that same poor, misunderstood young gentleman. But they’ll get over it. Don’t worry, Patty.”
“Mona, I’d like to shake you! I might just as well reason with the Rock of Gibraltar as to try to influenceyou. Don’t you know that your father asked me to try to persuade you to drop that Lansing man?”
Patty had not intended to divulge this confidenceof Mr. Galbraith, but she was at her wit’s end to find some argument that would carry any weight with her headstrong friend.
“Oh, daddy!” said Mona, carelessly. “He talks to me by the hour, and I just laugh at him and drum tunes on his dear old bald head. He hasn’t anything, really, against Mr. Lansing, you know; it’s nothing but prejudice.”
“A very well-founded prejudice, then! Why, Mona, that man isn’t fit to—to——”
“To worship the ground I walk on,” suggested Mona, calmly. “Well, he does, Patty, so you may as well stop interfering.”
“Oh, if you look upon it as interfering!”
“Well, I don’t know what you call it, if not that. But I don’t mind. Go ahead, if it amuses you. But I’m sorry if my affairs make trouble between you and your friends. However, I don’t believe Mr. Van Reypen will stay angry at you very long. And as for Roger,—well, I wouldn’t worry about him. Of course, you’re going to Elise’s dance on Tuesday night?”
“Yes, of course. And I’ve no doubt I’ll make up with Roger, then; but I don’t know about Philip. I doubt if he’ll be there.”
“I haven’t the least doubt. Where you are,there will Mr. Van Reypen be, also,—if he can possibly get an invitation.”
Mona was right in her opinion. At Elise’s dance on Tuesday night, almost the first man Patty saw, as she entered the drawing-room, was Philip Van Reypen. He greeted her pleasantly, but with a certain reserve quite different from his usual eager cordiality.
“May I have a dance, Miss Fairfield?” he said, holding out his hand for her card.
Quick-witted Patty chose just the tone that she knew would irritate him. “Certainly, Mr. Van Reypen,” she said, carelessly, and as she handed him her card, she turned to smile at another man who was just coming to speak to her. When Philip handed back her card, she took it without looking at it, or at him, and handed it to Mr. Drayton, seemingly greatly interested in what dances he might select.
Van Reypen looked at her a moment in amazement. He had intended to be cool toward her, but the tables were turned, and she was decidedly cool toward him.
However, his look of surprise was not lost upon Miss Patricia Fairfield, who saw him outof the corner of her eye, even though she was apparently engrossed with Mr. Drayton.
And then, as usual, Patty was besieged by several men at once, all begging for dances, and her card was quickly filled.
“WhatcanI do with so many suitors?” she cried, raising her hands in pretty bewilderment, as her card was passed from one to another. “Don’t take all the dances, please; I want to save some for my special favourites.”
“Meaning me?” said Kenneth Harper, who had just joined the group in time to hear Patty’s remark.
“You, for one,” said Patty, smiling on him, “but there are seventeen others.”
“I’m two or three of the seventeen,” said Roger, gaining possession of the card. “May I have three, Patty?”
One look flashed from Roger’s dark eyes to Patty’s blue ones, and in that glance their foolish little quarrel was forgiven and forgotten.
Roger had a big, generous nature, and so had Patty, and with a smile they were good friends again.
Patty’s mind worked quickly. She had no intention of giving Roger three dances, but shesaw that he and Mona were not yet on speaking terms. So she nodded assent, as he scribbled his initials in three places, thinking to herself that before the evening was over, two of them should be transferred to Mona’s card.
Patty was looking lovely in pale blue chiffon with tiny French rosebuds of pink satin adorning it here and there. Her golden hair was clustered in becoming puffs and curls, tucked into a little net of gold mesh, with coquettish bunches of rosebuds above each ear.
But, though Patty was pretty and wore lovely clothes, her chief charm was her happy, smiling face and her gay, good-natured friendliness. She smiled on everybody, not with a set smile of society, but in a frank, happy enjoyment of the good time she was having, and appreciation of the good time that everybody else helped her to have.
“You are all so kind to me,” she was saying to Robert Kenton, who had just come in; “and I want to thank you, Mr. Kenton, for the beautiful flowers you sent. I do love valley lilies, they’re so—so——”
“They’re so sentimental,” suggested Rob Kenton, smiling.
“Well, yes,—if you mean them to be,” saidPatty, dimpling at him. “Any flower is sentimental, if the sender means it so.”
“Or if the receiver wants it to be. Did you?” and Kenton smiled back at her.
“Oh, yes, ofcourseI do!” And Patty put on an exaggeratedly soulful look. “I’mthatsentimental you wouldn’t believe! But I forget the language of flowers. What do lilies of the valley mean,—especially with orchids in the middle of the bunch?”
“Undying affection,” responded Kenton, promptly. “Do you accept it?”
“I’d be glad to, but I suppose that means it lasts for ever and ever,—so you needn’t ever send me any more flowers!”
“Oh, it isn’t as undying as all that! It needs to be revived sometimes with fresh flowers.”
“It’s a little too complicated for me to think it out now,” and Patty smiled at him, roguishly. “Besides, here are more suitors approaching; so if you’ll please give me back my card, Mr. Kenton,—though I don’t believe there’s room for another one.”
“Not one?” said the man who took it, disappointedly; for sure enough, every space was filled. “But there’ll be an extra or two. May I have one of those?”
“Oh, I never arrange those in advance,” said Patty. “My partners take their chances on those. But I’ll give you half of this dance,” and she calmly cut in two the one dance against which Philip Van Reypen had set his aristocratic initials.
Then the dancing began, and what with the fine music, the perfect floor, and usually good partners, Patty enjoyed herself thoroughly. She loved dancing, and being accomplished in all sorts of fancy dances, could learn any new or intricate steps in a moment.
After a few dances she found herself whirling about the room with Roger, and she determined to carry out her plan of reconciling him and Mona. Mr. Lansing was not at the dance, for Elise had positively declined to invite him; and so, though Mona was there, she was rather cool to Elise, and favoured Roger only with a distant bow as a greeting.
“You and Mona are acting like two silly idiots,” was Patty’s somewhat definite manner of beginning her conversation.
“You think so?” said Roger, as he guided her skilfully round another couple who were madly dashing toward them.
“Yes, I do. And, Roger, I want you to take my advice and make up with her.”
“I’ve nothing to make up.”
“Yes, you have, too. You and Mona are good friends, or have been, and there’s no reason why you should act as you do.”
“There’s a very good reason; and he has most objectionable manners,” declared Roger, looking sulky.
“I don’t like his manners, either; but I tell you honestly, Roger, you’re going about it the wrong way. I know Mona awfully well,—better than you do. And she’s proud-spirited, and even a little contrary, and if you act as you do toward her, you simply throw her into the arms of that objectionable-mannered man!”
“Good Heavens, Patty, what a speech!”
“Well, of course, I don’t mean literally, but if you won’t speak to her at all, on account of Mr. Lansing, why of course she’s going to feel just piqued enough to smile on him all the more. Can’t you understand that?”
“Let her!” growled Roger.
“No, we won’t let her,—any such thing! I don’t like that man a bit better than you do, but do you suppose I’m going to show it by beingunkind and mean to Mona? That’s not tactful.”
“I don’t want to be tactful. I want him to let her alone.”
“Well, you can’t make him do that, unless you shoot him; and that means a lot of bother all round.”
“It might be worth the bother.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, I’m in earnest. You’re seriously fond of Mona, aren’t you, Roger?”
“Yes, I am; or rather, I was until that cad came between us.”
“He isn’t exactly a cad,” said Patty, judicially. “I do believe in being fair, and while the man hasn’t all the culture in the world, he is kind-hearted and——”
“And awfully good to his mother, let us hope,” and Roger smiled, a little sourly. “Now, Patty girl, you’d better keep your pretty little fingers out of this pie. It isn’t like you to interfere in other people’s affairs, and I’d rather you wouldn’t.”
“Oh, fiddle-de-fudge, Roger! I’m not interfering, and itismy affair. Mona is my affair, and so are you; and now your Aunt Patty is going to bring about a reconciliation.”
“Not on my part,” declared Roger, stoutly;
CHAPTER VIIMORE MAKING UP
After the sixth dance was over, Patty asked her partner to bring Mr. Everson to her, and then she awaited his coming on a little sofa in an alcove.
If Eugene Everson was surprised at the summons, he did not show it, but advanced courteously, and took a seat by Patty’s side. He had a dance engaged with her much later in the evening, so Patty said, pleasantly:
“Mr. Everson, don’t think my request strange, but won’t you exchange our later dance for this number seven?”
“I would gladly, Miss Fairfield, but I’m engaged for this.”
“Yes, I know,” and Patty favoured him with one of her most bewitching smiles; “but the lady is Miss Galbraith, as I happen to know, and Miss Galbraith is a very dear friend of mine, and,—oh, well, it’s a matter of ‘first aid to the injured.’ I don’t want to tell you allabout it, Mr. Everson, but the truth is, I want Miss Galbraith to dance this number with another man,—because,—because——”
It was not quite so easy as Patty had anticipated. She didn’t want to go so far as to explain the real situation, and she became suddenly aware that she was somewhat embarrassed. Her face flushed rosy pink, and she cast an appealing glance from her violet-blue eyes into the amused face of the man beside her.
“I haven’t an idea of what it is all about, Miss Fairfield, but please consider me entirely at the orders of yourself and Miss Galbraith. A man at a party is at best but a puppet to dance at the bidding of any fair lady. And what better fortune could I ask than to be allowed to obey your decree?”
Patty was greatly relieved when he took the matter thus lightly. In whimsical conversation she was on her own ground, and she responded gaily: “Let it remain a mystery, then; and obey as a noble knight a lady’s decree. Dance with me, and trust it to me that Miss Galbraith is also obeying a decree of mine.”
“For a small person, you seem to issue decrees of surprising number and rapidity,” andEverson, who was a large man, looked down at Patty with an air of amusement.
“Yes, sir,” said Patty, demurely, “I’m accustomed to it. Decrees are my strong point. I issue them ’most all the time.”
“And are they always obeyed?”
“Alas, noble sir, not always. Though I’m not sure that your question is as flattering as the remarks most young men make to me.”
“Perhaps not. But when you know me better, Miss Fairfield, you’ll find out that I’m very different from the common herd.”
“Really? How interesting! I hope I shall know you better very soon, for I adore unusual people.”
“And do unusual people adore you?”
“I can’t tell; I’ve never met one before,” and after the briefest of saucy glances, Patty dropped her eyes demurely.
“Aren’t you one yourself?”
“Oh, no!” And Patty looked up with an air of greatest surprise; “I’m just a plain little every-day girl.”
“You’re a plain little coquette, that’s what you are!”
“You are indeed unusual, sir, to call meplain!” and Patty looked about as indignant as an angry kitten.
“Perhaps, when I know you better, I may change my opinion of your plainness. Will you dance now?”
The music had been playing for some moments, and signifying her assent, Patty rose, and they joined the dancers who were circling the floor. Mr. Everson was a fine dancer, but he was all unprepared for Patty’s exquisite perfection in the art.
“Why, Miss Fairfield,” he said, unable to suppress his admiration, “I didn’t know anybody danced like you, except professionals.”
“Oh, yes, I’m a good dancer,” said Patty, carelessly; “and so are you, for that matter. Do you think they’ve made up?”
“Who?”
“Miss Galbraith and Mr. Farrington. See, we’re just passing them. Oh, I’m afraid they haven’t!”
It was difficult to judge by the glance they obtained in passing, but Patty declared that both Mona’s and Roger’s faces looked like thunder clouds.
“Give them a little longer,” said Mr. Everson, who began to see how matters stood.
“Perhaps another round, and we will find them smiling into each other’s eyes.”
But when they next circled the long room, Mona and Roger were nowhere to be seen.
“Aha,” said Everson, “the conservatory for theirs! It must be all right! Shall we trail ’em?”
“Yes,” said Patty. “I don’t care if they see us. Let’s walk through the conservatory.”
They did so, and spied Mona and Roger sitting under a group of palms, engaged in earnest conversation. They were not smiling, but they were talking very seriously, with no indication of quarrelling.
“I guess it’s all right,” said Patty, with a little sigh. “It’s awfully nice to have friends, Mr. Everson, but sometimes they’re a great care; aren’t they?”
“If you’ll let me be your friend, Miss Fairfield, I’ll promise never to be a care, and I’ll help you to care for your other cares.”
“Goodness, what a complicated offer! If I could straighten all those cares you speak of, I might decide to take you as a friend. I think I will, anyway,—you were so nice about giving me this dance.”
“I was only too delighted to do so, Miss Fairfield.”
“Thank you. You know it is in place of our other one, number sixteen.”
“Oh, we must have that also.”
“No, it was a fair exchange. You can get another partner for sixteen.”
“But I don’t want to. If you throw me over, I shall sit in a corner and mope.”
“Oh, don’t do that! Well, I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you half of sixteen, and you can mope the other half.”
And then Patty’s next partner claimed her, and Mr. Everson went away.
Having done all she could in the matter of conciliating Mona and Roger, Patty bethought herself of her own little tiff with Philip Van Reypen. It did not bother her much, for she had little doubt that she could soon cajole him back to friendship, and she assured herself that if she couldn’t, she didn’t care.
And so, when he came to claim his dance, which was the last before supper, Patty met him with an air of cool politeness, which greatly irritated the Van Reypen pride.
He had thought, had even hoped, Patty would be humble and repentant, but she showed nosuch attitude, and the young man was slightly at a loss as to what manner to assume, himself.
But he followed her lead, and with punctilious courtesy asked her to dance, and they stepped out on to the floor.
For a few rounds they danced in silence, and then Philip said, in a perfunctory way: “You’re enjoying this party?”
“I have been, up to this dance,” and Patty smiled pleasantly, as she spoke.
“And you’re not enjoying yourself now?” Philip said, suppressing his desire to shake her.
“Oh,no, sir!” and Patty looked at him with big, round eyes.
“Why not?”
“I don’t like to dance with a man who doesn’t like me.”
“Idolike you, you silly child.”
“Oh, no, you don’t, either! and I’mnota silly child.”
“And you’re not enjoying this dance with me?”
“Not a bit!”
“Then there’s no use going on with it,” and releasing her, Philip tucked one of her hands through his arm, and calmly marched her into the conservatory. The seat under the palmswas vacant, and as she took her place in one corner of it, he poked one or two cushions deftly behind her back and made her entirely comfortable. Then he sat down beside her.
“Now,” he commanded, “say you’re sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“That you carried on with that horrid man and spoiled our friendship.”
“Didn’t carry on, and he isn’t a horrid man, and our friendship isn’t spoiled, and I’m not sorry.”
“Not sorry that our friendship isn’t spoiled?”
“No; ’course I’m not! You don’t s’pose I want it to be spoiled, do you?”
“Well, you certainly did all in your power to spoil it.”
“Now, look here, Philip Van Reypen, I’ve already exhausted myself this evening patching up one spoiled friendship, and it’s just about worn me out! Now if ours needs any patching up, you’ll have to do it yourself. I shan’t raise a finger toward it!”
Patty leaned back among her pillows, looking lovely and provoking. She tried to scowl at him, but her dimples broke through the scowl and turned it into a smile. Whereupon, shedropped her eyes, and tried to assume a look of bored indifference.
Van Reypen looked at her. “So she won’t raise a finger, won’t she? And I’ve got to do it myself, have I? Well, then, I suppose I’ll have to raise her finger for her.” Patty’s hand was lying idly in her lap, and he picked up her slender pink forefinger slowly, and with an abstracted air. “I don’t know how raising a finger helps to patch up a spoiled friendship,” he went on, as if to himself, “but she seems to think it does, and so, of course, it does! Well, now, mademoiselle, your finger is raised,—is our quarrel all patched up?”
Philip held her finger in one hand, and clasped her whole hand with the other, as he smiled into her eyes, awaiting an answer to his question.
Patty looked up suddenly, and quickly drew her hand away.
“Unhand me, villain!” she laughed, “and don’t bother about our friendship! I’m not worrying over it.”
“You needn’t, little girl,” and Philip’s voice rang true. “Nothing canevershake it! And I apologise for my foolish anger. If you want to affect the society of men I don’t like,—of course I’ve no right to say a word, and I won’t.At any rate, not now, for I don’t want to spoil this blessed making-up with even a thought of anything unpleasant.”
“Now, that’s real nice of you, Philip,” and Patty fairly beamed at him. “It’s so nice to be friends again, after being near-not-friends!”
“Yes, milady, and you made up just in time. Aunty Van is having an opera party to-morrow night, and she wants you to go.”
“Are you going?” and Patty put her fingertip in her mouth, and looked babyishly at him.
“Oh, don’t let that influence you. Decide for yourself.”
“Well, sinceyoudon’t care whether I go or not, I believe I won’t go.”
“Foolish child! Of course you’ll go. And then, as you know very well, wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”
“How do wild horses keep people away? They must be trained to do it. Andthen, they’re not wild horses any more.”
“What foolishness you do talk! Well, will you go to the opera with us?”
“Yes, and thank you kindly, sir. Or, rather, I thank your august aunt for the invitation.”
“No, thank me. As a matter of fact, I made up the party. So it’s really mine, though I accept Aunty Van’s box for the occasion.”
“’Tis well, fair sir. I thank thee greatly. What may I do for thee in return?”
Patty clasped her hands and looked a pretty suppliant, begging a favour.
“Give me half a dozen more dances,” replied Philip, taking her card to look at.
“Not one left,” said Patty, calmly.
“And most of them halves!” exclaimed Philip. “What a belle you are, Patty!”
“All the girls are,” she returned, carelessly, which, however, was not quite true. “But I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll give you half of number sixteen. That’s Mr. Everson’s, but I’ll divide it. I told him I should.”
“You little witch! Did you save it for me?”
“M—m——,” and Patty slowly wagged her head up and down.
“That was dear of you! But don’t you think for a minute that’s all I’m going to have! There’ll be an extra or two, and I claim them all!”
“Hear the man talk!” exclaimed Patty. “Why, I do believe they’re beginning an extra now! Mr. Van Reypen, won’t you dance itwith me?” Patty jumped up and stood before him, lightly swaying in time to the music.
Philip sat looking at her, entranced by the pretty vision; and even before he could rise, Kenneth Harper came to Patty, and obeying a sudden coquettish impulse, she put her hand lightly on Kenneth’s shoulder and they danced away.
Philip Van Reypen sat looking after them, smiling.
“What a transparent child she is,” he thought to himself. “Her pretty little coquetries are like the gambols of a kitten. Now, she thinks I’m going to be annoyed at losing this dance with her. Well,—I am,—but I don’t propose to quarrel with her about it.”
And then Patty and Kenneth came dancing back again; and Patty calmly told Mr. Van Reypen it was his turn now.
Philip took her hand and they started off, and when that dance was finished it was supper-time.
As usual, Patty and her most especial friends grouped in some pleasant corner for supper. But, looking about, she missed a familiar face.
“Where is Christine Farley?” she said. “She always has supper with us. Do you know where she is, Mr. Hepworth?”
Gilbert Hepworth drew near Patty, and spoke in a low voice: “I think she has gone to the dressing-room,” he said. “I wish you’d go up and see her, Patty.”
A little startled at his serious face, Patty ran upstairs, to Elise’s room, where she had taken off her wraps.
There was Christine, who had thrown herself on a couch, and buried her face in the pillows.
“Why, Christine, what is the matter, dear?” and Patty laid her hand gently on Christine’s hair.
“Oh, Patty, don’t speak to me! I am not fit to have you touch me!”
“Good gracious, Christine, whatdoyou mean?” and Patty began to think her friend had suddenly lost her mind.
“I’m a bad, wicked girl! You were my friend, and now I’ve done an awful, dreadful thing! But, truly,truly, Patty, I didn’t mean to!”
“Christine Farley, stop this foolishness! Sit up here this minute, and tell me what you’re talking about! I believe you’re crazy.”
Christine sat up, her pale hair falling from its bands, and her eyes full of tears.
“I’ve—I’ve—stolen——” she began.
“Oh, you goose!dogo on! What have you stolen? A pin from Elise’s pin cushion,—or some powder from her puff-box? Another dab on your nose would greatly improve your appearance,—if you ask me! It’s as red as a beet!”
“Patty, don’t giggle! I’m serious. Oh, Patty,Patty,doforgive me!”
“I’ll forgive youanything, if you’ll tell me what’s the matter, and convince me that you haven’t lost your mind. Now, Christine, don’t youdareask me to forgive you again, until you tell mewhat for!”
“Well, you see, you were away all summer.”
“Yes, so I was,” agreed Patty, in bewilderment.
“And you have been so busy socially this fall and winter, I haven’t seen much of you.”
“No,” agreed Patty, still more deeply mystified.
“And—and—Gil—Mr. Hepworth hasn’t either——”
“Oh!” cried Patty, a great light breaking in upon her; “oh,—oh!—OH!! Christine, do youmeanit? Oh, how perfectlylovely! I’msoglad!”
“You’re glad?” and Christine opened her eyes in amazement.
“Why, ofcourseI’m glad, you silly! Did you thinkIwanted him? Oh, you Blessed Goose!”
“Oh, Patty, I’msorelieved. You see, I thought you looked upon him as your especial property. I know he cared a lot for you,—he still does. But——”
“But he and I are about as well suited as chalk and cheese! Whereas, he’s just the one for you! Oh, Christine, darling, I’m delighted! May I tell? Can we announce it to-night?”
“Oh, no! You see, he just told me to-night. And I felt guilty at once. I knew I had stolen him from you.”
“Oh, Christine,don’t! Don’t say such things! He wasn’t mine to steal. We’ve always been friends, but I never cared for himthatway.”
“That’s what he said; but I felt guilty all the same.”
“Well, stop it, right now! Mr. Hepworth is lovely; he’s one of the best friends I ever had, and if I have any claim on his interest or affection, I’m only too glad to hand it over to you. Now, brace up, powder your nose, and comedown to supper. And you needn’t think you can keep this thing secret! I won’t tell,—but your two faces will give it away at once. Don’t blamemeif people guess it!”
“Don’t let them, Patty; not to-night. Keep me by you, and right after supper I’ll go home.”
“All right, girlie; just as you like. But don’t look at G. H. or you’ll betray your own dear little heart.”
However, they reckoned without the other interested party.
When the two girls came downstairs, smiling, and with their arms about each other, Mr. Hepworth went to meet them, and drew Christine’s arm through his own with an unmistakable air of proprietorship. Christine’s blushes, and Patty’s smiles, confirmed Hepworth’s attitude, and a shout of understanding went up from their group of intimates.
“Yes, it’s so,” said Patty; “but I promised Christine I wouldn’t tell!”
And then there were congratulations and good wishes from everybody, and the pretty little Southern girl was quite overcome at being so suddenly the centre of attraction.
“It’s perfectly lovely,” said Patty, holding outher hand to Hepworth, “and I’m as glad for you as I can be,—and for Christine, too.”
“Thank you, Patty,” he returned, and for a moment he held her eyes with his own. Then he said, “Thank you,” again, and turned away.
CHAPTER VIIIA DELIGHTFUL INVITATION
Patty was singing softly to herself, as she fluttered around her boudoir at a rather late hour the next morning. Robed in a soft blue silk négligée, with her golden curls tucked into a little lace breakfast cap, she now paused to take a sip of chocolate or a bit of a roll from her breakfast tray, then danced over to the window to look out, or back to her desk to look up her calendar of engagements for the day.
“What a flutter-budget you are, Patty,” said Nan, appearing at the doorway, and pausing to watch Patty’s erratic movements.
Patty flew across the room and greeted her stepmother with an affectionate squeeze, and then flew back and dropped comfortably on the couch, tucking one foot under her, and thereby dropping off a little blue silk boudoir slipper as she did so.
“Oh, Nan!” she began, “it was the most excitingparty ever! Whatdoyou think? Christine and Mr. Hepworth are engaged!”
“Christine! and Gilbert Hepworth!” and Nan was quite as surprised at the news as Patty could desire.
“Yes, isn’t it great! and oh, Nan, whatdoyou think? Christine was all broken up,—crying in fact,—because,—did you ever know anything so ridiculous?—because she thought she was taking him away from me!”
Nan looked at Patty a little curiously. “Well; you must know, Patty, he certainly thought a great deal of you.”
“Of course he did! And of course hedoes!—You speak as if he were dead!—and I think a great deal of him, and I think a heap of Christine, and I think they are perfectly suited to each other, and I think it’s all just lovely! Don’t you?”
“Yes,” said Nan, slowly. “Then, you didn’t care for him especially, Patty?”
“Good gracious, Nan, if you mean was I in love with him, I sure wasnot!Little girls like me don’t fall in love with elderly gentlemen; and this particular little girl isn’t falling in love anyway. Why, Nan, I’m only just out, and I do perfectly adore being out! I want three orfour years of good, solid outness before I even think of falling in love with anybody. Of course I shall marry eventually, and be a beautiful, lovely housekeeper, just exactly like you. But, if you remember, my lady, you were some few years older than nineteen when you married my revered father.”
“That’s true enough, Patty, and I can tell you I’m glad I didn’t accept any of the young men who asked me before Fred did.”
“I’m jolly glad, too; and father was in luck when he got you. But you’re not going to be rid of me yet for a long time, I can tell you that much. Well, more things happened last night. Philip and I made up our quarrel,—which wasn’t much of a quarrel anyway,—and Roger and Mona are pretty much at peace again; though, if Mona keeps on with that Lansing idiot, Roger won’t stand it much longer. And I’m going to the opera to-night in the Van Reypen box, and I’m going skating to-morrow,—oh, there’s the mail!”
Patty jumped up and ran to take the letters from Jane, who brought in a trayful.
“Quite a bunch for you, Nansome,” and Patty tossed a lot of letters in Nan’s lap. “And a whole lot of beautiful, fat envelopes for me.’Most all invitations, as you can see at a glance. Two or three requests for charity,—they show on the outside, too. A few bills, a few circulars and advertisements, and all the rest invitations. Isn’t it gorgeous, Nan, to be invited to such heaps of things?”
“Don’t wear yourself out, Patty,” returned Nan, a little absent-mindedly, being absorbed in a letter from her mother.
Having weeded out the more interesting looking letters, Patty returned to her sofa, and curled up there with both feet under her, looking like a very pretty and very civilised little Turk. With a slender paper cutter she slashed all the envelopes, and then went through them one by one, making running comments of delight or indifference as she read the various contents.
But suddenly a more excited exclamation broke from her. “Oh, my goodness, gracious, sakes alive!” she cried. “Nan,willyou listen to this!”
“Wait a minute, honey, till I finish this letter,” and Nan went on reading to herself.
Patty dashed through eight pages of sprawly penmanship, and as soon as she finished she read it all over again.
“Now, Miss Fairfield, what’s it all about?” and Nan folded her own letter and returned it to its envelope.
“Well, in a nutshell, it’s a Christmas Country House Party! Could anything be more delightfuller?”
“Who, where, what, when?” And Nan patiently awaited further enlightenment.
“Oh, Nan, it’stoogorgeous!” And Patty’s eyes ran through the letter again. “You know Adèle Kenerley, who was down at Mona’s last summer,—well, she and Jim have bought a place at Fern Falls,—wherever that may be,—somewhere up in Connecticut,—in the Berkshires, you know. Heavenly in summer, dunno what it’ll be in winter. But all the same that’s where the house party is, Christmas,—stay two or three weeks,—all our crowd,—oh, Nan! isn’t it beatific!”
Patty bounded to her feet, and gathering up the sides of her accordion-pleated gown, she executed a triumphant dance about the room, winding up by kicking her little blue silk slipper straight over Nan’s head.
“Moderate your transports, my love,” Nan said, calmly. “I don’t want concussion of the brain, from being hit by a French heel.”
“Not much of a compliment to my skilful ballet dancing,” and Patty flung herself into the cushions again. “But, Nan, you don’t understand; everybody’s going! Elise and Mona and the boys, and oh, gracious,doshow some enthusiasm!”
“Don’t have to,” said Nan, smiling, “when you show enough for a dozen.”
“Well, I’ll call up Mona, she’ll have something to say.”
Patty reached for the telephone, and in a few moments both girls were talking at once, and the conversation ran something like this:
“Yes, I did, and, Patty——”
“Of course I am! Oh, I don’t know about that! If I——”
“But of course if Daisy is there——”
“Well, we can’t help that, and anyway——”
“Tuesday, I suppose; but Adèle said——”
“No, Monday, Mona, for us, and the boys——”
“I’m not sure that I’ll go. You see——”
“Now, stop such nonsense! Of course he isn’t invited, but I’ll never speak to you again if——”
“Oh, of course I will, but I’ll only stay——”
“Yes, all our best frocks, and lots of presents and, oh, Mona, come on over here, do. There’s oceans of things to talk about!”
“All right, I will. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.” And Patty hung up the receiver. “She’s coming over here, Nan; there’s so much to plan for, you know. Do help me, won’t you? A regular Christmas tree, and all that, you know; and presents for everybody, and a dance at the country club, and I don’t know what all.”
“Yes, you will have a lovely time.” And Nan smiled with sympathy at the excited girl, whose sparkling eyes and tumbled hair betokened her state of mind.
Mona came over and spent the rest of the day, and plans were made and unmade and remade with startling rapidity.
Mona began to voice regrets that Mr. Lansing was not invited to the house party, but Patty interrupted at once:
“Now, Mona Galbraith, you stop that! Adèle has a lovely party made up, and you’re not going to spoil it by even so much as a reference to that man! Roger will be there for Christmas, and if that isn’t enough for you, you can stay home!”
“Isn’t Elise going?”
“No, she can’t. She’s going South next week with her mother, and I doubt if Philip Van Reypen will go. His aunt won’t want him to leave her at the holidays. Do you know, I’m a little sorry Daisy Dow is up there.”
“You don’t like her, do you, Patty?”
“I would, if she’d like me. But she’s always snippy to me.”
“’Cause she’s jealous of you,” observed Mona, sapiently.
“Nonsense! She has no reason to be. I never interfere with her.”
“Well, never mind, don’t let her bother you. Hal Ferris will be there. You don’t know him, do you? He’s Adèle’s brother.”
“No, I never met him. She wrote that he’d be there.”
“He’s the dearest boy. Well, he’s older than Adèle, but he seems like a boy,—he’s so full of capers. Adèle says it’s a beautiful big house, just right for a jolly, old-fashioned Christmas party.”
The days simply flew by as Christmas drew nearer. There was so much to do socially, and then there were the Happy Saturday Afternoonsto be planned and carried out, and the Christmas shopping to be done.
This last was greatly added to because of the house party, for Patty knew the generosity of her hosts, and she wanted to do her share in the presentation festivities.
She undertook to dress a huge doll for baby May. Nan helped her with this or she never could have finished the elaborate wardrobe. She selected a beautiful doll, of goodly size, but not big enough to be cumbersome to little two-year-old arms. With her knack for dressmaking and her taste for colour, she made half a dozen dainty and beautiful frocks, and also little coats and hats, and all the various accessories of a doll’s outfit.
She bought a doll’s trunk and suit-case to contain these things, and added parasol, furs, jewelry, and all the marvellous little trinkets that the toy shop afforded.
“I spent so much time and thought on this doll,” said Patty, one day, “that I shall have to buy things for the others. I can’t sew any more, Nan; my fingers are all like nutmeg graters now.”
“Poor child,” sympathised Nan. “You have worked hard, I know, but Adèle will appreciateit more than if you had made something for herself. By all means buy the rest of your gifts.”
So Patty bought a beautiful luncheon set of filet lace and embroidery for Mrs. Kenerley, and an Oriental antique paper cutter for her husband.
She bought a handsome opera bag for Mona and a similar one for Daisy Dow, that there might be no rivalry there. She bought a few handsome and worth-while books for the men who would be at the party, and attractive trinkets for the house servants.
Of course, in addition to these, she had to prepare a great many gifts for her New York friends, as well as for her own family and many of her relatives. But both Patty and Nan enjoyed shopping, and went about it with method and common sense.
“I can’t see,” said Patty, as they started off in the car one morning, “why people make such a bugbear of Christmas shopping. I think it’s easy enough.”
“Perhaps it’s because you have plenty of money, Patty. You know, not every one has such a liberal father as you have.”
Patty looked thoughtful. “I don’t think it’s that, Nan; at least, not entirely. I think it’s more common sense, and not being fussy. Now, I give lots of presents that cost very little; and then, of course, I give a lot of expensive ones, too. But it’s just as easy to buy the cheap ones, if not easier. You just make up your mind what you want to spend for a certain present, and then you buy the nicest thing you see for that amount. It’s when people fuss and bother, and can’t make up their minds among half a dozen different things, that they get worried and bothered about Christmas. I do believe most of their trouble comes from lack of decision, which is only another way of saying that they haven’t common sense or even common gumption!”
“Well, Patty, whatever else you may lack, you certainly have common sense and gumption; I’ll give you credit for them.”
“Thank you, Nan; much obliged, I’m sure. I wish I could return the compliment, but sometimes I think you haven’t much of those things yourself.”
Nan flashed a smile at Patty, entirely unmoved by this criticism; for she knew that she was vacillating and sometimes undecided, as comparedto Patty’s quick-witted grasp of a subject and instantaneous decision.
“Have I told you,” said Patty, “what we’re going to do next Saturday afternoon? I do think it’s going to be lovely. And I do hope it won’t make the girls mad, but I don’t think it will. You know, Nan, what an awful lot of things we all get every Christmas that we don’t want and can’t use, although they’re awfully pretty and nice. We just lay them away in cupboards, and there they stay. Well, on Saturday, we’re going to take a lot of these things and give them to people.”
“For Christmas presents? Why, Christmas is two weeks off yet.”
“That’s just it! Not for presents to themselves, but presents for them to give to other people.”
“Oh, I begin to see.”
“Yes; it isn’t the least bitcharity, you see. Why, one of the people I’m going to give things to, is Christine. With her work, and being engaged and all, she hasn’t any time to make things, or even to go shopping, and she can’t afford to buy much, anyway. So I’m going to give her one or two beautiful silk bags that were given to me two or three years ago.They’re perfectly fresh, never been out of their boxes. And I’m going to give her one or two beautiful, fine handkerchiefs in boxes, and two or three lovely books, and two or three pieces of bric-a-brac, and a Japanese ivory carving. Don’t you see, Nan, she can give these to her friends for Christmas, and it will save her a lot of trouble and expense. And dear knows,Idon’t want them! My rooms are chock-a-block with just such things, now. And I know she won’t feel offended, when I tell her about it straightforwardly.”
“Of course she won’t be offended with you, Patty; and I think the idea is lovely. I’ve a lot of things put away I’ll give you. I never thought of such a thing before.”
“The girls thought at first that maybe it might not work, but I talked them around and now they’re all in for it. I’m going to take some things to Mrs. Greene. I’ve quite a lot for her, and I’ll tell her she can give them all away, or keep some herself, just as she likes. And I’ve things for Rosy, that freckled-faced boy, you know. I have games and picture-puzzles and books that I used to have myself. Of course they’re all perfectly new. I wouldn’t give anything that had been used at all. And we’regoing Saturday afternoon to take these things around. Mona has lovely things, and so has Elise. You see, we get so many Christmas and birthday presents, and card party prizes, and such things, and I do think it’s sensible to make use of them for somebody’s pleasure instead of sticking them away in dark cupboards. And, Nan, what do you think?—with each lot of things we’re going to give a dozen sheets of white tissue paper and a bolt of holly ribbon and some little tags so they can fix up real Christmassy presents to give away.”
“Patty, you’re a wonder,” said Nan, looking affectionately at the girl beside her. “How do you think of all these things?”
“Common sense and general gumption,” returned Patty. “Very useful traits,Ifind ’em. And here we are at our first shopping place.”
Assisted by Patty’s common sense and expeditious judgment, they accomplished a great deal that morning, and returned home with their lists considerably shortened.
“It does seem funny,” said Patty, that same afternoon, “to be tying up these things almost two weeks ahead of time. But with all the newspapers and magazines urging you to doyour shopping early, and send off your parcels early, you can’t really do otherwise.”
Patty was surrounded by presents of all sorts, boxes of all sizes, pieces of ribbon, and all sorts of cards and tags.
“I’m sick and tired of holly ribbon and red ribbon,” she said, as she deftly tied up her parcels. “So, this year, I’m using white satin ribbon and gilt cord. It’s an awfully pretty combination, and these little green and gilt tags are lovely, don’t you think?”
Her audience, which consisted of Elise and Mona, were watching her work with admiration. They had offered to help, but after an ineffectual attempt to meet Patty’s idea of how a box should be tied up, they abandoned the effort, and sat watching her nimble fingers fly.
“You ought to get a position in some shop where they advertise, ‘only experienced parcel wrappers need apply,’” said Elise. “I never saw such neat parcels.”
“You’re evidently going to be an old maid,” said Mona, “you’re so fussy and tidy.”
“I do like things tidy,” admitted Patty, “and if that interferes with my having a husband, why, of course I’ll have to give him up. For I can’t stand not having things neat about me.”
“Do you call this room neat?” asked Elise, smiling as she looked about at the scattered boxes and papers, cut strings, and little piles of shredded tissue.
“Yes, I do,” declared Patty, stoutly. “This kind of stuff can be picked up in a jiffy, and then the room is all in order. This is temporary, you see. By untidiness, I mean dirt and dust, and bureau drawers in a mess, and desks in disorder.”
“That’s me,” confessed Mona, cheerfully. “Not the dirt and dust, perhaps,—the maids look after that. But I justcan’tkeep my belongings in their places.”
“Neither can I,” said Elise. “I don’t see how you do it, Patty.”
“Oh, pshaw! it’s no credit to me, I just can’t help it. I’d have a fit if they weren’t all nice and in order. And if that means I’m going to be an old maid, I can’t help it,—and I don’t care!”
“Hoo-hoo!” said Elise.