CHAPTER XIICOASTING
Christmas morning was as white as the most picturesque imagination could desire. A heavy snow had fallen in the night and lay, sparkling, all over the fields and hills, so that now, in the sunshine, the whole earth seemed powdered with diamonds.
Patty came dancing downstairs, in a dainty little white morning frock.
“Merry Christmas, everybody!” she cried, as she found the group gathered round the fireplace in the hall. “Did you ever see such a beautiful day? Not for skating,” and she smiled at Hal, “but for snow-balling or coasting or any old kind of fun with snow.”
“All right,” cried Roger. “Who’s for a snow frolic? We can build a fort——”
“And make a snow-man,” put in Daisy, “with a pipe in his mouth and an old hat on his head. Why do snow-men always have to have those two things?”
“They don’t,” said Jim Kenerley. “That’s an exploded theory. Let’s make one this morning of a modern type, and let him have anything he wants except a pipe and a battered stove-pipe hat.”
“We’ll give him a cigarette and a Derby,” said Patty. “Oh, here comes the mail! Let’s have that before we go after our snow-man.”
The chauffeur came in from a trip to the post-office, with his hands and arms full of mail,—parcels, papers, and letters,—which he deposited on a table, and Jim Kenerley sorted them over.
“Heaps of things for everybody,” he said. “Belated gifts, magazines, letters, and post cards. Patty, this big parcel is for you; Daisy, here are two for you.”
“May take letters! Let baby May be postman!” cried the infant Kenerley.
“Let her, Jim,—she loves to be postman,” and Adèle put the baby down from her arms, and she toddled to her father.
“Great scheme!” said Hal. “Wait a minute, midget; I’ll make you a cap.”
With a few folds, a newspaper was transformed into a three-cornered cap and placed on the baby’s head.
“Now you’re a postman,” said her uncle. “Go and get the letters from the post-office.”
“Letters, p’ease,” said the baby, holding out her fat little hands to her father.
“All right, kiddums; these parcels are too big for you; you’re no parcel-post carrier. But here’s a bunch of letters; pass them around and let every one pick out his own.”
Obediently, the baby postman started off, and passing Daisy first, dumped the whole lot in her lap.
“Wait a minute, Toddles,” said Daisy. “I’ll pick out mine, then you take the rest on.”
Daisy selected half a dozen or more, and gave the rest of the lot back to the little one, who went on round the circle, letting each pick out his own letters.
Patty had about a dozen letters, and cards and greetings of various sorts. Some she tore open and read aloud, some she read to herself, and some she kept to open when she might be alone.
“Have you opened all your letters, Patty?” asked Jim, looking at her, quizzically.
“No; I saved father’s and Nan’s to read by myself, you people are so distracting.”
“Oho! Father’s and Nan’s! Oho! aha!And are those the only ones you saved to read by yourself, young lady?”
“I saved Elise’s, also,” said Patty, looking at him, a little surprised. “Aren’t you the inquisitive gentleman, anyway!”
“Elise’s! Oh, yes, Elise’s! And how about that big blue one,—what have you done with that?”
“I don’t see any big blue one,” said Patty, innocently. “What do you mean, Jim?”
“Oho!whatdo I mean? What,indeed!”
“Now, stop, Jim,” said his wife. “I don’t know what you’re teasing Patty about, but she shan’t be teased. If she wants to keep her big blue letter to herself, she’s going to keep it, that’s all.”
“Of course I shall,” said Patty, saucily. “That is, I should, if I had any big blue letter, but I haven’t.”
“Never mind big blue letters,” said Roger, “let’s all go out and play in the snow.”
So everybody put on wraps and caps and furs and out they went like a parcel of children to frolic in the snow. Snow-balling was a matter of course, but nobody minded a lump of soft snow, and soon they began to build the snow-man.
He turned out to be a marvel of art and architecture, and as his heroic proportions were far too great for anybody’s hat or coat, they draped an Indian blanket around him and stuck a Japanese parasol on the top of his head to protect him from the sun.
Roger insisted on the cigarette, and as the snow gentleman had been provided with a fine set of orange-peel teeth, he held his cigarette jauntily and firmly.
“I want to go coasting,” said Patty.
“And so you shall,” said Jim. “I sent for a lot of sleds from the village, and I think they’ve arrived.”
Sure enough, there were half a dozen new sleds ready for them, and snatching the ropes, with glee, they dragged them to a nearby hill.
It was a long, easy slope, just right for coasting.
“Want to be pioneer?” asked Roger of Patty. And ever-ready Patty tucked herself on to a sled, grasped the rope, Roger gave her a push, and she was half-way down the hill before any one knew she had started. The rest followed, and soon the whole party stood laughing at the bottom of the long hill.
“The worst is walking up again,” said Patty, looking back up the hill.
“Do you say that because it’s what everybody says,—or because you’re lazy?” asked Philip.
“Because I’m lazy,” returned Patty, promptly.
“Then get on your sled, and I’ll pull you up.”
“No, I’m not lazy enough for that, I hope! But I’ll tell you what I’ll do; I’ll race you up.”
“Huh! as if I couldn’t beat you up, and not half try!”
“Oh, I don’tknow! Come on, now, do your best! One, two, three, go!”
Each pulling a sled, they started to run uphill; at least, Philip started to run, and at a good rate; but Patty walked,—briskly and evenly, knowing full well that Philip could not keep up his gait.
And she was right. Half-way up the hill, Philip was forced to slow down, and panting and puffing,—for he was a big man,—he turned to look for Patty. She came along, and swung past him with an easy stride, flinging back over her shoulder, “Take another sprint, and you may catch me yet!”
“I’ll catch you, no matter how much I have to sprint,” Philip called after her, but he walked slowly for a few paces. Then, having regainedhis breath, he strode after her, and rapidly gained upon her progress. Patty looked over her shoulder, saw him coming, and began to run. But running uphill is not an easy task, and Patty’s strength began to give out. Philip saw this, and fell back a bit on purpose to give her an advantage. Then as they were very near the top, Patty broke into a desperate run. Philip ran swiftly, overtook her, picked her up in his arms as he passed, and plumped her down into a soft snowbank at the very top of the hill.
“There!” he cried; “that’s the goal, and you reached it first!”
“With your help,” and Patty pouted a little.
“My help is always at your disposal, when you can’t get up a hill.”
“That would be a fine help, if I ever had hills to climb. But I never do. This is a great exception.”
“But there are other hills than snow hills.”
“Oh, I suppose now you’re talking in allegories. I nevercouldunderstand those.”
“Some day, when I get a real good chance, I’ll explain them to you. May I?”
Philip’s face was laughing, but there was a touch of seriousness in his tone that made Patty look up quickly. She found his dark eyes lookingstraight into her own. She jumped up from her snowbank, saying: “I want to go down again. Where’s a sled?”
“Come on this one with me,” said Hal, who had a long, toboggan sort of an affair.
“This is great!” said Patty. “Where did you get this double-rigged thing?”
“It’s been here all the time, but you’ve been so wrapped up in that Van Reypen chap that you had no eyes for anybody else, or anybody else’s sled! I’m downright jealous of that man, and I’ll be glad when he goes home.”
“Ah, now, Chub,” said Patty, coaxingly, “don’t talk to me scoldy! Don’t now; will you, Chubsy?”
“Yes, I will, if you like him better than you do me.”
“Why, goodness, gracious, sakes alive! I’ve known him foryears, and I’ve only known you a few days!”
“That doesn’t matter. I’ve only known you a few days, and I’m head over heels in love with you!”
“Wow!” exclaimed Patty, “but this is sudden! Do you know, it’s so awful swift, I don’t believe it can be the real thing!”
“Do you know what the Real Thing is?”
“Haven’t a notion.”
“Mayn’t I tell you?”
“No, sir-ee. You see, I don’t want to know for years yet!Whycan’t people let me alone?”
“Who else has been bothering you?” demanded Hal, jealously.
“I don’t call it a bother! I supposed it was part of the game. Don’t all girls have nice compliments, and flattery kind of speeches from the young men they know?”
“I don’t know whether they do or not,” growled Hal.
“Well, I know; they do, and they don’t mean a thing; it’s part of the game, you know. Now, I’ll tell you something. I’ve known Philip Van Reypen ever so much longer than I have you, and yet I like you both exactly the same! And Roger just the same,—and Jim just the same!”
“And Martin, the chauffeur, just the same, I suppose; and Mike, the gardener, just the same!”
“Yep,” agreed Patty. “Everybodyjust the same! I think that’s the way to do in this world, love your neighbour as yourself, and look upon all men as free and equal.”
“Well, I don’t think all girls are equal,—notby a long shot. To my mind they’re divided into two classes.”
“What two?” said Patty, with some curiosity.
“One class is Patty Fairfield, and the other class is everybody else.”
They had reached the bottom of the hill before this, and were sitting on the sled, talking. Patty jumped up and clapped her hands. “That’s about the prettiest speech I ever had made to me! It’s a beautiful speech! I’m going right straight up the hill and tell it to everybody!”
“Patty,don’t!” cried Hal, his honest, boyish face turning crimson.
“Oh, then you didn’t mean it!” and Patty was the picture of disappointment.
“I did!Of courseI did! But girls don’t run and tell everything everybody says to them!”
“Don’t they? Well, then,Iwon’t. You see, I haven’t had as much experience in these matters as you have! Mustn’t Ievertell anything nice thatanybodysays to me?”
“Not whatIsay to you, anyhow! You see, they’re confidences.”
“Well, I don’t want any more of them justnow. I came out here for coasting, not for confidences.”
“I fear, my dear little girl, you’re destined all through life to get confidences, whatever you may go for.”
“Oh, what a horrible outlook! Well, then, let me gather my coasting while I may! Come on, Chubsy, let’s go up the hill.” And putting her hand in Hal’s, Patty started the upward journey.
At the top she declared she was going for one more ride downhill, and this time with Jim. “For,” she said to herself, “I would likeoneride without ‘confidences.’”
“Off we go!” said Jim, as he arranged her snugly on the toboggan sled, and took his place in front of her. They had a fine ride down, and Jim insisted on pulling Patty up again. She rode part way, and then decided it was too hard work for him, and jumped off.
“I guess I’m good for some walk,” she said, as she tucked her arm through his, and they climbed the hill slowly.
“I guess you are, Patty. You’re strong enough, only you’re not as hardy as Daisy and Adèle. I believe our Western girls are heartier than you New Yorkers. By the way, Patty,speaking of the West at large, what made you tell a naughty story this morning?”
“I didn’t!” and Patty looked at him with wide-open eyes. “I have a few faults, Jim, averyfew, andverysmall ones! but truly, storytelling isn’t among them.”
“But you said you didn’t get a big blue letter,” pursued Jim.
“And neither I did,” protested Patty. “What do you mean, Jim, by that big blue letter? I didn’t see any.”
“Patty, it’s none of my business, but you seem to be in earnest in what you say, so I’ll tell you that there certainly was in the mail a big blue letter for you, addressed in Bill Farnsworth’s handwriting. I wasn’t curious, but I couldn’t help seeing it; and I know the dear old boy’s fist so well, that I was moved to tease you about it.”
“It didn’t tease me, Jim, for I didn’t get any such letter.”
“Well, then, where is it?”
“I don’t know, I’m sure. Perhaps baby May kept it.”
“Perhaps some of the boys got it and kept it to tease you.”
“I don’t believe they’d do that. PerhapsAdèle saved it for me. Well, we’ll look around when we get home, but don’t say anything about it.”
But when they reached the house, neither Jim nor Patty could find the blue letter. Adèle said she had not seen it, and Patty insisted that no one else should be questioned. Privately, she thought that Hal Ferris had received it by mistake from baby May, and had kept it, because he, too, knew Bill’s handwriting, and because,—well, of course, itwasfoolish, she knew,—but Hal had said he was jealous of any other man, and he might have suppressed or destroyed Bill’s card for that reason. She felt sure it was not a letter, but merely a Christmas card. However, she wanted it, but she wanted to ask Hal for it herself, instead of letting the Kenerleys ask him.
“Dinner will be at two o’clock,” Adèle made announcement. “It’s considered the proper thing to eat in the middle of the day on a holiday, though why, I never could quite understand.”
“Why, of course, the reason is, so the children can eat once in a while,” suggested her brother.
“Baby can’t come to the table. She’s too little, and her table manners are informal, to say the least. However, the tradition still holds, so dinner’s at two o’clock, and you may as well all go and get dressed, for it’s after one, now. There’ll be a few extra guests, so you girls will have somebody to dress up for.”
“I like that,” said Roger; “as if we boys weren’t enough for any girls to dress up for!”
“But you’ve seen all our pretty frocks,” laughed Patty. “It’s only strangers we can hope to impress with them now. I shall wear my most captivating gown, if Mr. Collins is coming. Is he, Adèle?”
“Yes, and Mr. Hoyt, too; and two more girls. Skip along, now, and don’t dawdle.”
But Patty dawdled on the staircase till Ferris came along, and then she spoke to him in a low tone. “Chub, you didn’t see a stray letter of mine this morning, did you?”
“’M—what kind of a letter?”
“Oh, a blue envelope, with probably a card inside. I hadn’t opened it, so I don’t know what was in it.”
“Who was it from?”
“Why, how could I tell, when I hadn’t openedit! In fact, that’s just what I want to know.”
“What makes you think I know anything about it?”
“Oh, Chub, don’t tease me! I haven’t time, now; and truly, I want that letter! Do you know anything about it?”
“No, Patty, I don’t. I didn’t see any letters addressed to you, except the bunch you had in your hand. Have you really lost one?”
“Yes,” said Patty, seeing that Hal was serious. “Jim told me there was one for me from Mr. Farnsworth, and I want it.”
“Bill Farnsworth! What’s he writing to you for? I didn’t know you knew him.”
“I don’t know him very well; I only met him last summer. And I don’t know that he did write to me; it was probably just a card. But I want it.”
“Yes, you seem to. Why, Patty, you’re blushing.”
“I am not any such thing!”
“You are, too! You’re as pink as a peach.”
“Well, I only blushed to make you call me a peach,—and now that I’ve succeeded, I’ll run away.”
So blushing and laughing both, Patty ran upstairsto her own room. Hal had been so frank that she was convinced he knew nothing about the letter, and she began to fear it must have been tossed into the fire, with the many waste papers that were scattered about.
CHAPTER XIIIHIDE AND SEEK
All the time Patty was dressing she wondered about that letter; and when Mona, ready for dinner, stopped at her door, Patty drew her into the room.
“Mona,” she said, “did you get a Christmas card from Mr. Farnsworth?”
“Yes,” said Mona, “in a big blue envelope. Daisy had one, too. Didn’t you get one?”
“No; Jim said there was one for me, but it got lost somehow. Thrown in the fire, I shouldn’t wonder.”
“Well, don’t mind,” said Mona, cheerfully. “You can have mine. It isn’t very pretty, and Daisy’s isn’t either, but I suppose they’re the best Bill could find out there in Arizona. Do you want it now, Patty?”
“I don’t want it at all, Mona. What would I want with your card, or Daisy’s either? But if Little Billee sent one to me, I’d like to have it, that’s all.”
“Of course you would; but truly, they don’t amount to much.”
“Jim must have been mistaken about there being one for me,” said Patty, and then the two girls went downstairs.
The Christmas dinner was practically a repetition of the feast of the night before; but as Adèle said, how could that be helped if people would have two Christmas celebrations on successive days?
There were four extra guests, who proved to be merry and jolly young people, and after dinner Hal declared that his reign as Lord of Misrule was not yet over.
“Don’t let’s do any more stunts like we had last night,” said Mona. “They wear me out. Let’s play easy games, like blindman’s buff, or something.”
“Or Copenhagen,” said Hal, but Patty frowned at him.
“We’re too grown-up for such things,” she declared, with dignity. “What do you say to a nice, dignified game of hide and seek?”
“All over the house!” cried Roger. “May we, Mrs. Kenerley?”
“The house is yours,” said Adèle. “I reserveno portion of it. From cellar to attic, from drawing-room to kitchen, hide where you will and seek where you like,—if you’ll only promise not to wake the baby. She’s taking her afternoon nap.”
“She doesn’t seem to mind noise,” said Roger. “We do make an awful racket, you know.”
“Oh, no, I don’t mean that,” said Adèle. “I’ve trained her not to mind noise. But I mean if your hiding and seeking takes you into the nursery quarters, do go softly.”
“Of course we will,” said Philip. “I’m specially devoted to that baby, and I’ll see that her nap isn’t disturbed, even if I have to stand sentry at her door. But what larks to have the whole house! I’ve never played it before but what they wouldn’t let you hide in this room or that room. Who’ll be It?”
“Oh, that’s an old-fashioned way to play,” said Hal. “Here’s a better way. Either all the men hide and the girls find them, or else the other way around; and, anyway, don’t you know, whoever finds who, has to be her partner or something.”
“For life?” asked Jim, looking horrified.
“Mercy, no!” said his brother-in-law. “Thisis a civilised land, and we don’t select life partners that way!”
“You mean just partners for a dance,” said Patty, trying to help him out.
“Well, you see,” said Hal, “it ought to be more than just a dance; I mean more like a partner for a,—for a junketing of some kind.”
“I’ll tell you,” said Adèle. “There’s to be a masquerade ball at the Country Club on New Year’s Eve, and we’re all going.”
“Just the thing!” cried Hal. “Now, whichever seeker finds whichever hider, they’ll go in pairs to the ball, don’t you see? Romeo and Juliet, or anything they like, for costumes.”
“But we won’t be here,” and Philip Van Reypen looked ruefully at Roger. “We go back to town to-morrow.”
“But you can come up again,” said Adèle, hospitably. “I hereby invite you both to come back the day before New Year’s, and stay as long as you will.”
“Well, you aresomehostess!” declared Roger, looking grateful. “I accept with pleasure, but I doubt if my friend Van Reypen can get away.”
“Can he!” cried Philip. “Well, I rather guess he can! Mrs. Kenerley, you’re all sortsof a darling, and you’ll see me back here on the first train after your invitation takes effect.”
“Then hurrah for our game of hide and seek,” Hal exclaimed. “Jim and Adèle, you must be in it, too. You needn’t think you can go as Darby and Joan,—you must take your chances with the rest. If you find each other, all right, but if you find anybody else, that’s your fate,—see?”
“I’m willing,” said Adèle, laughing. “I’m sure I’d be glad to go with any of you beautiful young men.”
“Now, will you listen tothat!” cried her husband. “Well, I won’t be outdone in generosity. I’ll be proud to escort any one of this galaxy of beauty,” and he looked at the group of pretty girls.
“Now, we must do it all up proper,” said Hal. “In the first place, we must draw lots to see whether the girls shall hide or we shall. We must have it all very fair.”
He tore two strips of paper, one longer than the other, and holding them behind him, bade Adèle choose.
“Right!” she said, and Hal put forth his right hand and gave her a paper on which was written “Girls.”
“All right,” went on the master of ceremonies. “Now you girls must hide. We’ll give you fifteen minutes to tuck yourselves away, and then we’re all coming to look for you. As soon as any man finds any girl, he brings her back here to the hall to wait for the others. Now, there’s no stipulation, except that you must not go out of the house. Scoot! and remember, in fifteen minutes we’ll be after you!”
The six girls ran away and made for various parts of the house. The two Misses Crosby, who had come as dinner guests, looked a little surprised at this unusual game, and Patty said to them, kindly: “You don’t mind, do you? You know, you needn’t really go with the man who finds you, if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, we don’t mind,” said the elder Miss Crosby. “I think it’s fun,—only if I should draw that dignified Mr. Van Reypen I’d be scared to death!”
“Oh, he isn’t so awfully dignified,” laughed Patty. “That’s just his manner at first. When you know him better, he’s as jolly as anything. But hurry up, girls, the minutes are flying.”
The girls scampered away, some running tothe attic, others going into wardrobes or behind sofas, and Patty ran to her own room.
Then she bethought herself that that was one of the most likely places they would look for her, and she was seized with an ambition to baffle the seekers. With a half-formed plan in her mind, she slipped out of a side door of her own room that opened on a small passage leading to the nursery. In the nursery, she found the baby asleep in her crib, and the Fräulein lying down on a couch with a slumber-robe thrown over her, though she was not asleep.
Like a flash, Patty’s plan formed itself. She whispered to the Fräulein, and with a quick understanding the good-natured German girl took off her rather voluminous frilled cap, with its long muslin streamers, and put it on Patty’s head. Then Patty lay down on the couch, with her face toward the wall, and deep buried in the pillows. Fräulein tucked the slumber-robe over her, and then herself disappeared down into the kitchen quarters.
The search was rather a long one, for the house was large, and the girls had chosen difficult hiding-places.
The two Crosby girls were found first, because not knowing the house well, they had simplygone into hall closets, and stood behind some hanging dresses. They were discovered by Jim Kenerley and Hal; and if the latter was disappointed in his quarry, he gave no sign of it.
The four returned to the hall, and after a while they were joined by Roger and Mona.
“Oho,” said Jim, who loved to tease, “what a coincidence that you two should find each other!”
“Easy enough,” said Roger. “I knew Mona would choose the very hardest place to find; so I went straight to the attic to the very farthest, darkest corner, and there she was, waiting for me!”
“There I was,” said Mona, “but I wasn’t waiting foryou!”
“No, you were waiting for me, I know,” said Jim, ironically. “But never mind, Mona, we’ll be partners next time. Hello, Adèle, is thatyourterrible fate?” and they all laughed as Adèle and Mr. Hoyt came in together, with cobwebs on their hair and smudges of black on their faces.
“I thought I’d be so smart, Jim, and I hid in the coal-bin; but Mr. Hoyt found me! By the way, we must have that place cleaned; it’s a disgrace to the house!”
“But you know, my dear, we don’t often use it to receive our guests in.”
“Well, I don’t care, it must be cleaned. There’s no excuse for cobwebs. Now I must go and tidy up. I hope they haven’t wakened the baby. Oh, here’s Daisy.”
Daisy and Mr. Collins came in, laughing, and Mr. Collins declared he had found Miss Dow hanging out the third-story window by her finger-tips.
“Nothing of the sort,” said Daisy. “I was out on a kind of little balcony place, that’s on top of a bay-window or something,—but I put my hands over the sill inside, so that I could say I was still in the house. Wasn’t that fair?”
“Well, it’s fair enough, as long as I found you,” said Mr. Collins. “But when I saw your hands, I really thought you were hanging from the sill!”
“Where’s Patty?” asked Daisy, “and Mr. Van Reypen? Are they still finding each other?”
“I saw Phil,” said Roger, “standing guard at the nursery door, as he said he would. He let us each go in and look around, on condition that we wouldn’t wake the baby. And the baby’s nurse was also asleep on the sofa, so Ilooked around and sneaked out as fast as I could.”
Just then Van Reypen came downstairs. “I’ve been delayed,” he said, “because I held the fort for the baby, until every man-jack of you had been in the nursery. Now I’m going to beginmy search. Who is there left to find?”
“Oh, who,indeed?” said Jim, looking wise. “Oh,nobodyin particular! Nobody but that little Fairfield girl, andof courseyou wouldn’t want to findher!”
“Patty!” exclaimed Philip, as he looked around at the group. “Why, she isn’t here, is she? Where can that little rascal be? You fellows have been all over the house, I suppose?”
“Every nook and cranny,” declared Mr. Hoyt. “It was as a very last resort that I went to the coal-bin and captured Mrs. Kenerley.”
“Been through the kitchens?” asked Philip, looking puzzled.
“I have,” said Mr. Collins. “They’re full of startled-looking servants who seemed to think I was a lunatic, or a gentleman burglar,—I don’t know which.”
“Well, of course she’s got to be found,” said Philip. “There’s no use looking in the obvious places, for Patty’s just cute enough to pick out a most unexpected hiding-place. Come on, Roger; you found your girl,—help me with mine.”
“Oh, it isn’t fair to have help,” said Hal. “Alone upon your quest you go!”
“Here I go, then.” And Philip ran upstairs three at a time. He went first to the attics, and made a systematic search of every hall, room, and closet. He even peeped into the great tank, as if Patty might have been transformed into a mermaid. Then followed a thorough search of the second story, with all its rambling ells and side corridors; he tiptoed through the nursery, smiling at the sleeping baby and casting a casual glance at the still figure on the couch with the long, white cap-strings falling to the floor.
On he went, through the various rooms, and at last, with slow step, came down into the hall again.
“I think she had one of those contraptions like the Peter Pan fairies,” he said, “and flew right out through the roof and up into the sky! But I haven’t searched this floor yet. May Igo into the dining-room and kitchens, Mrs. Kenerley?”
“Everywhere,” said Adèle. “You know I made no reservations.”
Philip strode through the rooms, looked under the dining-room table and into the sideboard cupboards; on through the butler’s pantry, and into the kitchens. Needless to say, he found no Patty, and returned, looking more puzzled than ever.
“I’m not going down cellar,” he said. “Something tells me that Patty couldn’t possibly stay down there all this time! It’s more than an hour since she hid.”
“What are you going to do about it?” inquired Jim. “Give it up? I’ll ring the Chinese gong for her to come back to us. That was to be a signal in case of an emergency.”
“No,” said Philip. “I’m going to reason this thing out. Give me a few minutes to think, and I believe I can find her.”
“Don’t anybody disturb him, let him think!” said Mona, gaily, and going to the piano, she began to play “Alice, where art thou?” in wailing strains that made them all laugh.
All at once Philip jumped up. “I knowwhere she is!” he exclaimed. “Sit still all of you, and I’ll bring her back with me!”
“Wait a minute,” said Adèle, curiously. “How did you find it out?”
“Doyouknow where she is?” and Philip looked at her intently.
“No, I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Adèle, honestly. “But I wondered how you could know, just from thinking about it.”
“It’s clairvoyance,” said Philip, with a mock air of mystery. “You see, I know all the places where sheisn’t, so the one place I have in mind must be where sheis. By the way, Mrs. Kenerley; baby always takes an afternoon nap, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, always.”
“And does the Fräulein, her nurse, always take a nap at the same time?”
“Oh, no! She never naps in the daytime.”
“She did to-day,” began Roger, but Philip was already flying upstairs again.
He went softly into the nursery. The baby was still asleep, the figure on the couch still lay quietly beneath the knitted afghan.
Philip went over and stood beside the couch. The face was buried in the pillow, but beneaththe edge of the cap he saw some stray golden curls.
“H’m!” he mused, in a low voice, but entirely audible to Patty. “I thought baby May’s nurse had dark hair. She must have bleached it!”
Patty gave no sign that she heard, but cuddled her head more deeply in the soft pillows.
“Why, it isn’t the Fräulein at all!” said Philip, in tones of great surprise. “It’s the Sleeping Beauty!”
Still Patty gave no intimation of being awake, though, of course, she was.
Then Philip leaned down over her and murmured: “And I’m the Prince; and when the Prince finds the Sleeping Beauty, there’s only one course for him to pursue.”
At this, Patty opened her eyes and prepared to spring up, but she was not quite quick enough, and Philip lightly kissed the top of her little pink ear, before she could elude him.
“How dare you!” she cried, and her eyes flashed with indignation.
But Philip stood calmly smiling at her.
“It’s entirely permissible,” he said, “when any Prince finds a Sleeping Beauty, to kiss her awake.”
“But I wasn’t asleep!” stormed Patty, “and you knew it!”
“You gave such a successful imitation of it, that I consider myself justified,” he returned. “And, anyway, it was only a little bit of a butterfly kiss, and it doesn’t really count.”
“No,” agreed Patty, rather relieved, “it doesn’t count.”
“But it counts that I have found you,” went on Philip. “You know the rest of the story, after the Prince kissed the Sleeping Beauty?”
“She had to go to the Country Club ball with him,” said Patty, laughing, as she danced away from him. “Be careful, Philip; we’ll wake baby May. Come on downstairs.”
“I found her,” announced Philip, somewhat unnecessarily; “and I was a blooming idiot not to know she was there all the time!”
“You sure were!” said Roger, when he heard the story. “Did you get a good rest, Patty?”
“Yes; only it was interrupted so soon,” and Patty returned Philip’s meaning glance with a saucy smile.
“Well,” Roger went on, “now you two will have to go to the masquerade together. I suppose you’ll go as Jack and Jill?”
“No,” said Philip, “I think fairy tales aremuch prettier than Mother Goose rhymes. We’re going as the Sleeping Beauty in the Wood, and the Fairy Prince. Only, of course, the Sleeping Beauty will be awake for the occasion. Shall I bring up your costume when I return next week, Patty?”
“I might like to have a voice in deciding on the part I shall take,” said Patty, with a show of spirit.
“But youdiddecide it! I never should have thought of appearing as ‘Prince Charming,’ if you hadn’t——”
“That will do, Philip!” said Patty, turning very pink.
“Go on, Phil!” cried Roger. “If she hadn’t what?”
“If she hadn’t said I’d look so sweet in a light blue satin coat,” replied Philip, pretending to look confused.
“Oh, pshaw! She didn’t say that,” declared Roger. “And beside, you won’t!”
“Oh, yes, he will,” said Patty. “Those court suits are lovely,—all silver lace and cocked hats! Oh, Philip, do wear one of those! And I’ll write to Nan, to get me a costume. What are you going to wear, Mona?”
“But we mustn’t tell!” said Adèle, in dismay.“This is a masquerade, not merely a fancy dress ball.”
“Oh!” said Patty. “Then we’ll have to change our plans, Philip. The Sleeping Beauty game is all off!”
“Only for the moment!” And Philip threw her a challenging glance.
CHAPTER XIVA PROPOSAL
It was after midnight when the Christmas guests went away, and Patty declared her intention of going to bed at once.
“I coasted and danced and played hide and seek till I’m utterly worn out,” she said, “and I think I shall sleep for a week!”
“But I’m going away to-morrow,” said Philip, detaining her a moment.
“But you’re coming back next week. I’ll promise to be awake by then. But now I’m going to hibernate, like a bear! Good-night, everybody!” and Patty ran upstairs without further ceremony.
But as, in her pretty blue négligée, she sat before the mirror brushing her long hair, Mona, Daisy, and Adèle all came into her room, quite evidently with a determination to chat.
“You’re an old sleepy-head, Patty,” declared Adèle. “You may sleep as late as you like inthe morning, but we want to have a little confab now, about lots of things.”
“Nicht, nein, non, no!” cried Patty, jumping up and brandishing her hair-brush. “I know perfectly well what your confabs mean,—an hour or more of chattering and giggling! Come in the morning,—I’m going to have my chocolate upstairs to-morrow,—and I’ll give you all the information you want. But as for to-night, skip, scoot, scamper, and vamoose, every dear, sweet, pretty little one of you!”
Laughingly, Patty pushed the three out of her room, and closing the door after them, turned its key, unheeding their protests, and returned to her hair-brushing.
“It’s no use, Patricia,” she said, talking to herself in the mirror, as she often did, “letting those girls keep you up till all hours! You need your beauty sleep, to preserve what small pretence to good looks you have left.”
Patty was not really vain of her pretty face, but she well knew that her delicate type of beauty could not stand continuous late hours without showing it, and Patty was not mistaken when she claimed for herself a good share of common sense.
But as she brushed away at the golden tangleof curls, she heard a light tap at her door, which sounded insistent, rather than mischievous.
“Who is it?” she asked, as she rose and went toward the door.
“It’s Daisy,” said a low voice. “Let me in, Patty, just for a minute.”
So Patty opened the door, and Daisy Dow came in.
“I want to tell you something,” she said, as Patty stood waiting, brush in hand. “I don’t really want to tell you a bit,—but Jim says I must,” and Daisy looked decidedly cross and ill-tempered.
Patty realised that it was a bother of some kind, and she said, gently, “Leave it till morning, Daisy; we’ll both feel brighter then.”
“No; Jim said I must tell you to-night. Oh, pshaw, it’s nothing, anyway! Only therewasa letter for you from Bill Farnsworth, and I took it from May, and kept it for a while, just to tease you. I was going to give it to you to-morrow, anyway; but Jim came and asked me about it, and madesucha fuss! Men are sosilly!”
“Why, no, Daisy, it isn’t anything much; only you know peopledolike to have letters that belong to them! But, as you say, it’s nothingto make a fuss about. Incidentally, I believe it’s a State’s prison offence,—or would be if you opened it. You didn’t, did you?”
“Of course not!” said Daisy; “but I knew it was only a card, like ours, and I just kept it back for fun.”
“It doesn’t seem to me an awfully good joke,—but never mind that. Give me the letter, and we’ll call it square, and I won’t have you arrested or anything.”
Patty spoke lightly, but really she was deeply annoyed at this foolish trick of Daisy’s. However, since Jim had found out the truth and made Daisy own up, there was no great harm done.
“I haven’t got the letter,” said Daisy. “I left it downstairs, but we can get it in the morning. I’m sure it’s only a card; it is just the same size and shape as ours.”
“Daisy, what did you do it for?” And Patty looked the girl in the eyes, in a real curiosity to know why she should descend to this petty meanness.
“Because you’re such a favourite,” said Daisy, truthfully. “Everybody likes you best, and everybody does everything for you, and you get everything, and I wanted to tease you!”
Patty grasped the girl by her shoulders, and shook her good-naturedly, while she laughed aloud. “Daisy, youdobeat the dickens! You know that foolish little temper of yours is too silly for anything, and if you’d conquer it you’d be a whole lot nicer girl! You’re just as pretty as anybody else, and just as jolly and attractive, but you get a notion that you’re slighted when you’renot; and that makes you ill-tempered and you lose half your charm. Don’t you know that if you want people to love you and admire you, you must be sunshiny and pleasant?”
“Huh, that isn’t my nature, I s’pose. I can’t help my quick temper. But, anyway, Patty, you’re a dear not to get mad,—and I’ll give you the letter the first thing in the morning.”
“Where is it, Daisy?”
“Oh, I just stuck it between two volumes of a cyclopædia, on a shelf in the library. So, you see, we can’t get it till morning; but it will be safe there, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worrying,” and Patty smiled, as Daisy said a somewhat abrupt good-night, and went away.
There were still a few embers of a wood fireglowing on the hearth, and Patty sat down before it in a big arm-chair.
“I don’t know why I’m so glad,” she said to herself, her weariness all gone now. “But I did feel neglected to have Little Billee send the other girls cards, and leave me out. I’d like to see it; I hardly glanced at theirs,—though I remember, they weren’t very pretty. I’d like to see Little Billee again, but I don’t suppose I ever shall. Well, there are plenty of other nice boys in the world, so it doesn’t matter much. All the same, I’d like to see that card. I believe I’ll go down and get it. There’s always a low light in the hall, and I can feel it between the books.”
Patty hesitated for some time, but finally her impatience or curiosity got the better of her, and she softly opened her door and peeped out. There were low lights in the halls, and as she listened over the banister and heard no sounds, Patty began to creep softly down the stairs. Her trailing robe of light blue crêpe de chine was edged with swansdown, and she drew it about her, as she noiselessly tiptoed along in her slippered feet.
The hall light shone dimly into the library, through which Patty could see a brighter light inthe smoking-room beyond. She listened a moment, but hearing no voices, concluded she could creep into the library, capture her card, and return undiscovered.
“And, anyway,” she thought to herself, “there can’t be anybody in the smoking-room, or I would hear them talking.”
It was easy to proceed without a sound by stepping softly along the thick rugs, and as Patty knew exactly where the cyclopædias were shelved, she made straight for that bookcase. It was next to the smoking-room doorway, and as Patty reached it, she peeped around the portière to make sure that the next room was unoccupied.
But to her surprise, she saw Philip Van Reypen stretched out in a big arm-chair in front of the fire. His eyes were closed, but Patty saw he was not asleep, as he was slowly smoking a cigar. Patty saw him sidewise, and she stood for a second contemplating the handsome profile and the fine physique of the man, who looked especially graceful in his careless and unconscious position.
Almost holding her breath, lest he should hear her, Patty moved noiselessly to the shelves, being then out of sight behind a portière.
By slow, careful movements, it was easy enough to move the books silently, and at last she discovered the blue envelope, tucked between two of them. She drew it out without a sound,—careful lest the paper should crackle,—and started to retrace her stealthy steps upstairs again, when she saw the hem of the portière move the veriest trifle.
“A mouse!” she thought to herself, with a terrified spasm of fear, for Patty was foolishly afraid of mice.
Unable to control herself, she sprang up into a soft easy-chair and perched on the back of it.
The springs of the chair gave a tiny squeak, scarcely as loud as a mouse might make, yet sufficient to arouse Van Reypen from his reverie.
He sprang up, and pushing aside the portière, switched on the light, to see Patty sitting on the low, tufted back of the chair, her hair streaming about her shoulders, and her face expressing the utmost fear and horror.
“Well!” he observed, looking at her with a smile,—“well!”
“Oh, Philip,” whispered Patty, in a quaking voice, “it’s a mouse! anawfulmouse!”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” and Philip folded his arms, and stood gazingat the pretty, frightened figure on the chair back.
His amused calm quieted Patty’s nerves, which had really been put on edge by her uncontrollable aversion to mice, and she returned, cheerfully, “I suppose I shall have to stay up here the rest of my life, unless you can attack and vanquish the fearsome brute.”
“I shall not even try,” said Philip, coolly, as he turned to throw away his cigar, “because I like to see you sitting up there. However, as there may be danger of another attack from the enemy, and as this chair is almost entirely unoccupied, I shall camp out here at your feet, and keep guard over your safety.”
He seated himself on the arm of the same chair, while Patty sat on its low, cushioned back. She drew her blue gown more closely about her, and cast wary glances toward the corner, where the enemy was presumably encamped.
“I think perhaps the danger is over,” she said. “And if you’ll go back to the smoking-room, I will make a brave effort to get away unharmed.”
“Watch me go,” said Philip, showing no signs of moving. “However, if it will set your mind at rest, I’ll tell you that itwasn’ta mouse. Idon’t believe they have such things in this well-regulated household.”
“But Isawit!” declared Patty, positively.
“Saw a mouse?”
“Well, notexactlythat, but I saw that little tassel on the portière wiggle, so itmusthave been a mouse.”
“Patty, you are the most ridiculous little goose on the face of this earth! Your imagination is something marvellous! Now I’ll inform you that the reason that tassel moved, was because I threw a match at it. I aimed for a waste-basket and hit the curtain, but I had no idea that I should find myself so surprised at the result!”
Patty dimpled and giggled. “Itissurprising, isn’t it?” she said, feeling much more light-hearted since her fears were relieved regarding the mouse. “And I’m not sure it’s altogether correct, that you and I should be down here alone after midnight.”
“Fiddlestrings!” exclaimed Philip. “Don’t be a silly! And besides, Jim is about somewhere, and Adèle has been bobbing in and out.”
“There was no one in the halls when I came down. And I think, Philip, I’d better go back.”
“What did you come down for, anyhow?”
For some unexplained reason, Patty suddenly felt unwilling to tell what she had come for. Bill’s letter was hidden in the folds of her voluminous blue gown, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to tell Philip that she came down for that.
“Oh, I was wakeful,” she said, “and I came down to get a—a book.”
“H’m; and you thought you’d take a volume of the Britannica back with you, to read yourself to sleep?”
Patty had to laugh at this, for in the corner where they were, the shelves contained nothing but cyclopædias and dictionaries.
“But they’re really very interesting reading,” she declared.
“And this is the little girl who was so sleepy she had to run off to bed as soon as the party was over! Patty, Patty, I’m afraid you’re not telling me the truth! Try again.”
“Well, then,—well, then, I came down because,—because I was hungry!”
“Ah, that’s better. Anybody has a right to be hungry, or even afraid of mice,—but no one has a right to lug a whole cyclopædia upstairs to read oneself to sleep.”
“I wasn’t going to takeallthe volumes,” said Patty, demurely, and then she jumped down from her perch. “I’ll just see which one I do want,” and pretending to read the labels, she deftly slipped her letter back between the volumes, unseen by Van Reypen.
“You little goose, you,” said Philip, laughing. “Stop your nonsense, and let’s go and forage in the dining-room for something to eat. We might as well have some good food while we’re about it.”
“But I’m not exactly in proper dinner garb,” said Patty, shaking out her blue folds, and trailing her long robe behind her.
“Nonsense! I don’t know much about millinery, but you never wore anything more becoming than all that fiddly-faddly conglomeration of blue silk and white fur.”
“It isn’t fur,—it’s down.”
“Well, I said you were a goose,—so it’s most appropriate.”
“But it’s swansdown.”
“Well, be a swan, then! Be anything you like. But come on, let’s make for the dining-room. We’ll probably find Jim there, but don’t make any noise, or everybody upstairs will think we’re burglars and shoot us.”
Philip switched off the library light, and taking Patty’s hand, led her through the dim hall and into the dining-room. At the end of this room was a wide bay window, which let in a perfect flood of moonlight.
“Oh,” exclaimed Patty, “what a picture! From my room you couldn’t tell it was moonlight at all.”
The picture from the window was a far sweep of hills, white with snow, and glistening in the moonlight. In the foreground, evergreen trees, laden with snow, stood about like sentinels,—and a big, yellow three-quarter moon was nearing the western horizon.
“Isn’t it wonderful, Philip?” whispered Patty, almost awed at the sight.
“Yes, dear,” he said, still holding her hand in both his own. “Patty, you have a wonderful appreciation of the beautiful.”
“Nobody could help loving such a sight as that.”
“And nobody could help loving such a girl as you!” exclaimed Philip, drawing her into his arms. “Patty, darling, you know I love you! Patty,docare for me alittlebit, won’t you?”
“Don’t, Philip,” and Patty drew gently awayfrom him. “Pleasedon’t talk to me like that! Oh, I oughtn’t to be here! Let me go, Philip,—Iknowthis isn’t right.”
“Itisright, Patty, darling; because I love you, and I want you for all my own. Say you love me, and that will makeeverythingall right!”
“But I don’t, Philip.” And Patty’s voice carried a hint of tears.
“But you will, dear; youmust, because I love youso. Patty, I have always loved you, I think, since I first saw you on the stairs at Aunty Van’s that evening. Do you remember?”
“Yes, I remember; but please, Philip, let me go now, anddon’ttalk to me this way. I don’twantyou to!”
“You’re frightened, Patty, that’s all; and perhaps I ought not to have spoken just now; but you looked so sweet, in the moonlight, with that wonderful hair of yours curling about your shoulders, that I just couldn’t help it.”
“I’ll forgive you, Philip, if you’ll forget this whole occurrence.”
“Forget it? Why, Patty, what do you mean? I never forget it for a single moment! I was sitting there to-night, dreaming ofyou. I wasn’t asleep, you know, I was just thinking about you, and wondering how soon I might tellyou my thoughts. You’re so young, dear,—I’m half a dozen years older than you are,—but I want you, my little Patty. Mayn’t I hope?”
“You’re quite right, Philip. Iamtoo young to think of such things. So cut it out for a couple of years, and then I’ll see about it!”
“Patty, you rogue, howcanyou speak like that? Don’t you love me a least little bit?”
“Not a teenty weenty speck! And if you don’t give me something to eat, I won’t evenlikeyou.”
“Well, here’s a bargain, then,—if I find something nice for you to eat, will you like me a whole lot?”
“I do like you a whole lot, anyway; but I don’t love you and I’m not going to loveanybody,ever! I do think being grown-up is a regular nuisance, and I wish I was a little girl again, with my hair down my back!”
“Incidentally, your hairisdown your back.”
“Well, I don’t care,” and Patty shook her curly mane. “I wear it that way in tableaux and things, so what’s the difference?”
“Thereisn’tany difference. We’ll pretend you’re a tableau.”
“All right, I’ll be Patience on a Monument, waiting for some supper.”
“That was Little Tommy Tucker.”
“No;hesang for his supper. I’m not going to sing.”
“For Heaven’s sake,don’t! Your top notes would bring the whole crowd down here! Patty, if you’ll promise to love mesome time, I’ll stop teasing younow.”
“Oh, Philip, I’d do ’most anything to have you stop teasing me now! But howcanI tell who I’m going to love when I get old enough to love anybody?”
“Well, you don’t love anybody yet, do you?”
“I donot!” and Patty shook her head with great emphasis.
“Then I have a fair show, anyway.” And Philip drew the curtain that shut out the moonlight, and switched on the electric light.
“Exit Romance!” he said, “and enter Comedy! Now, Patty, you’re my little playmate; we’re just two kiddies in the pantry, stealing jam,—that is, if we can find any jam.”
“The pantry’s the place,” said Patty; “there’s nothing in the sideboard but biscuit and raisins.”
“They don’t sound very good to me. To the pantry!”
Into the pantries they went, and there, incupboards and iceboxes, found all sorts of good things.
Cold turkey, game pâté, jellies, custards, cakes, and all varieties of food.
“This is ever so much more fun than moonlight,” said Patty, as she perched herself on a table, there being no chair, and held a partridge wing in one hand and a macaroon in the other. “Could you find me a glass of milk, Philip?”
“Yes, indeed; anything you want, my Princess.”
“I thought you said Jim was about,” Patty remarked.
“He was,” returned Philip, calmly. “I saw him go upstairs as we came in the dining-room.”
“Did he see us?”
“Sure! He grinned at me and I grinned at him. I didn’t invite him to come with us,—so being a polite gentleman, he didn’t come. He doesn’t mind our eating up his food. He’s awful hospitable, Jim is.”
“Well, I’ve had enough of his food, and now I’m going back to my downy couch. If I don’t see you to-morrow before you leave,—good-bye, Philip.”
“That’s a nice, casual way to say good-bye to a man who has just proposed to you!”
“Good gracious!Wasthat a proposal?”
“Well, rather! What did you think it was? A sermon, or just a bit of oratory?”
“Do you know, Philip, truly I didn’t realise it at the time,” and Patty’s smile was very provoking, as she looked up into his face.
“Would your answer have been different if you had?” he asked, eagerly.
“Oh, no, not that! But I just want you to understand that I don’t consider it a real proposal,” and Patty laughed and ran away, leaving Philip to “clear up” the pantry.
She stopped a moment in the library, long enough to get her blue letter, and then scuttled up the stairs and into her own room.