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<p>Title: Patty's Summer Days</p>
<p>Author: Carolyn Wells</p>
<p>Release Date: June 21, 2008 [eBook #25865]</p>
<p>Language: English</p>
<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PATTY'S SUMMER DAYS***</p>
<p> </p>
<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Roger Frank, Juliet Sutherland,<br />
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
(http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
<p> </p>
<hr class="full" />
<p> </p>
<div class='figcenter'>
<img src='images/frontis.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
</div>
<hr class='silver' />
<div class='ce'>
<p style=' font-size:1.8em; margin-top:1em;'>Patty’s</p>
<p style=' font-size:1.8em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Summer Days</p>
<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em;'>By CAROLYN WELLS</p>
<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:1.5em;'>Author of “Idle Idylls,” “Patty in the City,” etc.</p>
</div>
<div class='figcenter'>
<img src='images/illus-emb.png' alt='' title='' /><br />
<p class='caption' style='text-align:center;'>
<br />
</p>
</div>
<div class='ce'>
<p style=' font-size:1.0em; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em;'>ILLUSTRATED</p>
<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
<p style=' font-size:1.0em;'>NEW YORK</p>
<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>DODD, MEAD & COMPANY</p>
<p style=' font-size:1.0em; margin-bottom:1em;'>1909</p>
</div>
<div class='ce'>
<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Copyright, 1906, By<br />Dodd, Mead & Company</span></p>
<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'><i>Published, September, 1906</i></p>
</div>
<hr class='silver' />
<div class='ce'>
<p style=' font-size:1.0em; margin-top:1em;'>To</p>
<p style=' font-size:1.0em; margin-bottom:1em;'>ELEANOR SHIPLEY HALSEY</p>
</div>
<hr class='silver' />
<div class='ce'>
<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>CONTENTS</p>
</div>
<table border='0' width='400' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'>
<tr>
<td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td>
<td></td>
<td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>I </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>A Gay Household </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_A_GAY_HOUSEHOLD'>1</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>II </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>Wedding Bells </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_WEDDING_BELLS'>13</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>III </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>Atlantic City </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_ATLANTIC_CITY'>27</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>IV </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>Lessons Again </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_LESSONS_AGAIN'>40</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>V </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>A New Home </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_A_NEW_HOME'>53</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>VI </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>Busy Days </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_BUSY_DAYS'>66</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>VII </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>A Rescue </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_A_RESCUE'>79</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>VIII </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>Commencement Day </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_COMMENCEMENT_DAY'>92</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>IX </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>The Play </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_THE_PLAY'>105</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>X </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>A Motor Trip </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_A_MOTOR_TRIP'>118</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XI </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>Dick Phelps </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_DICK_PHELPS'>130</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XII </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>Old China </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_OLD_CHINA'>143</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XIII </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>A Stormy Ride </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_A_STORMY_RIDE'>155</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XIV </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>Pine Branches </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_PINE_BRANCHES'>169</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XV </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>Miss Aurora Bender </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_MISS_AURORA_BENDER'>182</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XVI </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>A Quilting Party </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVI_A_QUILTING_PARTY'>195</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XVII </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>A Summer Christmas </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVII_A_SUMMER_CHRISTMAS'>208</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XVIII </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>At Sandy Cove </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVIII_AT_SANDY_COVE'>221</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XIX </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>Rosabel </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIX_ROSABEL'>234</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XX </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>The Rolands </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XX_THE_ROLANDS'>246</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XXI </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>The Crusoes </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXI_THE_CRUSOES'>259</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XXII </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>The Bazaar Of All Nations </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXII_THE_BAZAAR_OF_ALL_NATIONS'>271</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='right'>XXIII </td>
<td valign='top' align='left'>The End Of The Summer </td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIII_THE_END_OF_THE_SUMMER'>287</a></td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr class='silver' />
<div class='ce'>
<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>ILLUSTRATIONS</p>
</div>
<table border='0' width='400' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em auto'>
<col style='width:80%;' />
<col style='width:20%;' />
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='left'>“Patty fairly reveled in Nan’s beautiful trousseau”</td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'>8</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='left'>“‘There, you can see for yourself, there ain’t no chip or crack into it’”</td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_2'>148</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='left'>“Although a successful snapshot was only achieved after many attempts”</td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>178</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='left'>“Patty arrayed herself in a flowered silk of Dresden effect”</td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_4'>206</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign='top' align='left'>“In a few minutes Patty was feeding Rosabel bread and milk”</td>
<td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_5'>238</a></td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr class='silver' />
<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div>
<div class='ce'>
<p style=' font-size:1.8em;'>Patty’s Summer Days</p>
</div>
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='I_A_GAY_HOUSEHOLD' id='I_A_GAY_HOUSEHOLD'></a>
<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
<h3>A GAY HOUSEHOLD</h3>
</div>
<p>“Isn’t Mrs. Phelps too perfectly sweet!
That is the loveliest fan I ever laid eyes
on, and to think it’s mine!”
</p>
<p>“And <i>will</i> you look at this? A silver coffee-machine!
Oh, Nan, mayn’t I make it work,
sometimes?”
</p>
<p>“Indeed you may; and oh, see this! A
piece of antique Japanese bronze! Isn’t it
<i>great?</i>”
</p>
<p>“I don’t like it as well as the sparkling, shiny
things. This silver tray beats it all hollow.
Did you ever see such a brightness in your
life?”
</p>
<p>“Patty, you’re hopelessly Philistine! But
that tray is lovely, and of an exquisite design.”
</p>
<p>Patty and Nan were unpacking wedding
presents, and the room was strewn with boxes,
tissue paper, cotton wool, and shredded-paper
packing.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span></p>
<p>Only three days more, and then Nan Allen
was to marry Mr. Fairfield, Patty’s father.
</p>
<p>Patty was spending the whole week at the
Allen home in Philadelphia, and was almost
as much interested in the wedding preparations
as Nan herself.
</p>
<p>“I don’t think there’s anything so much fun
as a house with a wedding fuss in it,” said
Patty to Mrs. Allen, as Nan’s mother came
into the room where the girls were.
</p>
<p>“Just wait till you come to your own wedding
fuss, and then see if you think it’s so much
fun,” said Nan, who was rapidly scribbling
names of friends to whom she must write notes
of acknowledgment for their gifts.
</p>
<p>“That’s too far in the future even to think
of,” said Patty, “and besides, I must get my
father married and settled, before I can think
of myself.”
</p>
<p>She wagged her head at Nan with a comical
look, and they all laughed.
</p>
<p>It was a great joke that Patty’s father should
be about to marry her dear girl friend. But
Patty was mightily pleased at the prospect, and
looked forward with happiness to the enlarged
home circle.
</p>
<p>“The trouble is,” said Patty, “I don’t know
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span>
what to call this august personage who insists
on becoming my father’s wife.”
</p>
<p>“I shall rule you with a rod of iron,” said
Nan, “and you’ll stand so in awe of me, that
you won’t dare to call me anything.”
</p>
<p>“You think so, do you?” said Patty saucily.
“Well, just let me inform you, Mrs. Fairfield,
that is to be, that I intend to lead you a
dance! You’ll be responsible for my manners
and behaviour, and I wish you joy of your
undertaking. I think I shall call you <i>Stepmamma</i>.”
</p>
<p>“Do,” said Nan placidly, “and I’ll call you
Stepdaughter Patricia.”
</p>
<p>“Joking aside,” said Patty, “honestly, Nan,
I am perfectly delighted that the time is coming
so soon to have you with us. Ever since
last fall I have waited patiently, and it seemed
as if Easter would never come. Won’t we have
good times though after you get back from your
trip and we get settled in that lovely house in
New York! If only I didn’t have to go to
school, and study like fury out of school, too,
we could have heaps of fun.”
</p>
<p>“I’m afraid you’re studying too hard,
Patty,” said Mrs. Allen, looking at her young
guest.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span></p>
<p>“She is, Mother,” said Nan, “and I wish
she wouldn’t. Why do you do it, Patty?”
</p>
<p>“Well, you see, it’s this way. I found out
the first of the year that I was ahead of my
class in some studies, and that if I worked extra
hard I could get ahead on the other studies,
and,—well, I can’t exactly explain it, but it’s
like putting two years’ work into one; and then
I could graduate from the Oliphant school this
June, instead of going there another year, as
I had expected. Then, if I do that, Papa says
I may stay home next year, and just have masters
in music and French, and whatever
branches I want to keep up. So I’m trying,
but I hardly think I can pass the examinations
after all.”
</p>
<p>“Well, you’re not going to study while
you’re here,” said Mrs. Allen, “and after we
get Nan packed off on Thursday, you and I are
going to have lovely times. You must stay
with me as long as you can, for I shall be dreadfully
lonesome without my own girl.”
</p>
<p>“Thank you, dear Mrs. Allen, I am very
happy here, and I love to stay with you; but of
course I can stay only as long as our Easter vacation
lasts. I must go back to New York the
early part of next week.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span></p>
<p>“Well, we’ll cram all the fun possible into
the few days you are here then,” and Patty’s
gay little hostess bustled away to look after her
household appointments.
</p>
<p>Mrs. Allen was of a social, pleasure-loving
nature. Indeed, it was often said that she cared
more for parties and festive gatherings than
did her daughter Nan.
</p>
<p>Nobody was surprised to learn that Nan
Allen was to marry a man many years older
than herself. The surprise came when they
met Mr. Fairfield and discovered that that gentleman
appeared to be much younger than he
undoubtedly was.
</p>
<p>For Patty’s father, though nearly forty years
old, had a frank, ingenuous manner, and a smile
that was almost boyish in its gaiety.
</p>
<p>Mrs. Allen was in her element superintending
her daughter’s wedding, and the whole affair
was to be on a most elaborate scale. Far
more so than Nan herself wished, for her tastes
were simple, and she would have preferred a
quieter celebration of the occasion.
</p>
<p>But as Mrs. Allen said, it was her last opportunity
to provide an entertainment for her
daughter, and she would not allow her plans to
be thwarted.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span></p>
<p>So preparations for the great event went
busily on. Carpenters came and enclosed the
wide verandas, and decorators came and hung
the newly made walls with white cheese cloth,
and trimmed them with garlands of green. The
house was invaded with decorators, caterers,
and helpers of all sorts, while neighbours and
friends of Mrs. Allen and of Nan flew in and
out at all hours.
</p>
<p>The present-room was continually thronged
by admiring friends who never tired of looking
at the beautiful gifts already upon the tables,
or watching the opening of new ones.
</p>
<p>“There’s the thirteenth cut-glass ice-tub,”
said Nan, as she tore the tissue paper wrapping
from an exquisite piece of sparkling glass. “I
should think it an unlucky number if I didn’t
feel sure that one or two more would come yet.”
</p>
<p>“What are you going to do with them all,
Nan?” asked one of her girl friends; “shall
you exchange any of your duplicate gifts?”
</p>
<p>“No indeed,” said Nan, “I’m too conservative
and old-fashioned to exchange my wedding
gifts. I shall keep the whole thirteen, and then
when one gets broken, I can replace it with
another. Accidents will happen, you know.”
</p>
<p>“But not thirteen times, and all ice-tubs!”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span>
said Patty, laughing. “You’ll have to use them
as individuals, Nan. When you give a dinner
party of twelve, each guest can have a separate
ice-tub, which will be very convenient.”
</p>
<p>“I don’t care,” said Nan, taking the jest
good-humouredly, “I shall keep them all, no
matter how many I get. And I always did like
ice-tubs, anyway.”
</p>
<p>Another great excitement was when Nan’s
gowns were sent home from the dressmaker’s.
Patty was frankly fond of pretty clothes, and
she fairly revelled in Nan’s beautiful <i>trousseau</i>.
To please Patty, the bride-elect tried them all
on, one after another, and each seemed more
beautiful than the one before. When at last
Nan stood arrayed in her bridal gown, with
veil and orange blossoms complete, Patty’s
ecstacy knew no bounds.
</p>
<p>“You are a picture, Nan!” she cried. “A
perfect dream! I never saw such a beautiful
bride. Oh, I am so glad you’re coming to live
with us, and then I can try on that white satin
confection and prance around in it myself.”
</p>
<p>They all laughed at this, and Nan exclaimed,
in mock reproach:
</p>
<p>“I’d like to see you do it, Miss! Prance
around in my wedding gown, indeed! Have
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span>
you no more respect for your elderly and antiquated
Stepmamma than that?”
</p>
<p>Patty giggled at Nan’s pretended severity,
and danced round her, patting a fold here, and
picking out a bow there, and having a good
time generally.
</p>
<p>The next day there was a luncheon, to which
Mrs. Allen had invited a number of Nan’s
dearest girl friends.
</p>
<p>Patty enjoyed this especially, for not only
did she dearly love a pretty affair of this sort,
but Mrs. Allen had let her help with the preparations,
and Patty had even suggested some
original ideas which found favour in Mrs.
Allen’s eyes.
</p>
<p>Over the table was suspended a floral wedding
bell, which was supplied with not only one
clapper, but a dozen. These clappers were ingenious
little contrivances, and from each hung
a long and narrow white ribbon. After the
luncheon, each ribbon was apportioned to a
guest, and at a given signal the ribbons were
pulled, whereupon each clapper sprang open,
and a tiny white paper fluttered down to the
table.
</p>
<div class='figcenter'>
<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a>
<img src='images/illus1.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
<p class='caption' style='text-align:center;'>
“Patty fairly reveled in Nan’s beautiful trousseau”
<br />
</p>
</div>
<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span></div>
<p>These papers each bore the name of one of
the guests, and when opened were found to
contain a rhymed jingle foretelling in a humorous
way the fate of each girl. Patty had written
the merry little verses, and they were read
aloud amid much laughter and fun.
</p>
<p>As Patty did not know these Philadelphia
girls very well, many of her verses which foretold
their fates were necessarily merely graceful
little jingles, without any attempt at special
appropriateness.
</p>
<p>One which fell to the lot of a dainty little
golden-haired girl ran thus:
</p>
<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Your cheeks are red, your eyes are blue;</p>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Your hair is gold, your heart is too.</p>
</td></tr></table>
<p>Another which was applied to a specially
good-humoured maiden read thus:
</p>
<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>The longer you live the sweeter you’ll grow;</p>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Your fair cup of joy shall have no trace of woe.</p>
</td></tr></table>
<p>But some of the girls had special hopes or
interests, and these Patty touched upon. An
aspiring music lover was thus warned:
</p>
<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>If you would really learn to play,</p>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Pray practice seven hours a day,</p>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And then perhaps at last you may.</p>
</td></tr></table>
<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span></div>
<p>And an earnest art student received this
somewhat doubtful encouragement:
</p>
<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>You’ll try to paint in oil,</p>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>And your persistent toil,</p>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Will many a canvas spoil.</p>
</td></tr></table>
<p>Patty’s own verse was a little hit at her dislike
for study, and her taste in another direction:
</p>
<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Little you care to read a book,</p>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>But, goodness me, how you can cook!</p>
</td></tr></table>
<p>Nan’s came last of all, and she read it aloud
amid the gay laughter of the girls:
</p>
<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Ere many days shall pass o’er your fair head,</p>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Your fate is, pretty lady, to be wed;</p>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Yet scarcely can you be a happy wife,</p>
<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>For Patty F. will lead you such a life!</p>
</td></tr></table>
<p>The girls thought these merry little jingles
great fun, and each carefully preserved her
“fortune” to take home as a souvenir of the
occasion.
</p>
<p>Bumble Barlow was at this luncheon, for the
Barlows were friends and near neighbours of
the Allens.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span></p>
<p>Readers who knew Patty in her earlier years,
will remember Bumble as the cousin who lived
at the “Hurly-Burly” down on Long Island.
</p>
<p>Although Bumble was a little older, and insisted
on being called by her real name of
Helen, she was the same old mischievous fly-away
as ever. She was delighted to see Patty
again, and coaxed her to come and stay with
them, instead of with the Allens. But Mrs.
Allen would not hear of such an arrangement,
and could only be induced to give her consent
that Patty should spend one day with the Barlows
during her visit in Philadelphia.
</p>
<p>The short time that was left before the wedding
day flew by as if on wings. So much was
going on both in the line of gaiety and entertainment,
and also by way of preparation for
the great event, that Patty began to wonder
whether social life was not, after all, as wearing
as the more prosaic school work.
</p>
<p>But Mrs. Allen said, when this question was
referred to her, “Not a bit of it! All this
gaiety does you good, Patty. You need recreation
from that everlasting grind of school
work, and you’ll go back to it next week refreshed,
and ready to do better work than
ever.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span></p>
<p>“I’m sure of it,” said Patty, “and I shall
never forget the fun we’re having this week.
It’s just like a bit of Fairyland. I’ve never had
such an experience before.”
</p>
<p>Patty’s life had been one of simple pleasures
and duties. She had a great capacity for enjoyment,
but heretofore had only known fun
and frolic of a more childish nature. This
glimpse into what seemed to be really truly
grown-up society was bewildering and very enjoyable,
and Patty found it quite easy to adapt
herself to its requirements.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='II_WEDDING_BELLS' id='II_WEDDING_BELLS'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span>
<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
<h3>WEDDING BELLS</h3>
</div>
<p>At last the wedding day arrived, and a
brighter or more sunshiny day could
not have been asked for by the most
exacting of brides.
</p>
<p>It was to be an evening wedding, but from
early in the morning there was a constant succession
of exciting events. The last touches
were being put to the decorations, belated presents
were coming in, house guests were arriving,
messengers coming and going, and through
it all Mrs. Allen bustled about, supremely
happy in watching the culminating success of
her elaborate plans. Patty looked at her with
a wondering admiration, for she always admired
capability, and Mrs. Allen was exhibiting
what might almost be called generalship in
her house that day.
</p>
<p>Of course, Patty had no care or responsibility,
and nothing to do but enjoy herself, so she
did this thoroughly.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></p>
<p>In the morning Marian and Frank Elliott
came. They were staying at the Barlows’, and
Mr. Fairfield was staying there too.
</p>
<p>It sometimes seemed to Patty that her father
ought to have played a more prominent part in
all the preliminary festivities, but Mrs. Allen
calmly told her, in Mr. Fairfield’s presence,
that a bridegroom had no part in wedding affairs
until the time of the ceremony itself.
</p>
<p>Mr. Fairfield laughed good-humouredly, and
replied that he was quite satisfied to be left out
of the mad rush, until the real occasion came.
</p>
<p>Like Nan, Mr. Fairfield would have preferred
a quiet wedding, but Mrs. Allen utterly
refused to hear of such a thing. Nan was her
only daughter, and this her only chance to arrange
an entertainment such as her soul delighted
in. Mr. Allen was willing to indulge
his wife in her wishes, and was exceedingly
hospitable by nature. Moreover, he took great
pride in his charming daughter, and wanted
everything done that could in any way contribute
to the success or add to the beauty of her
wedding celebration.
</p>
<p>Patty fluttered around the house in a sort
of inconsequent delight. Now in the present-room,
looking over the beautiful collection, now
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span>
chatting with her cousins, or other friends, now
strolling through the great parlours with their
wonderful decorations of banked roses and garland-draped
ceilings.
</p>
<p>Dinner was early that night, as the ceremony
was to be performed at eight o’clock, and after
dinner Patty flew to her room to don her own
beautiful new gown.
</p>
<p>This dress delighted Patty’s beauty-loving
heart. It was a white tulle sprinkled with silver,
and its soft, dainty glitter seemed to Patty
like moonlight on the snow. Her hair was done
low on her neck, in a most becoming fashion,
and her only ornament was a necklace of pearls
which had belonged to her mother, and which
her father had given her that very day. The
first Mrs. Fairfield had died when Patty was a
mere baby, so of course she had no recollection
of her, but she had always idealised the personality
of her mother, and she took the beautiful
pearls from her father with almost a feeling of
reverence as she touched them.
</p>
<p>“I’m so glad it’s Nan you’re going to marry,
Papa,” she said. “I wouldn’t like it as well if
it were somebody who would really try to be a
stepmother to me, but dear old Nan is more
like a sister, and I’m so glad she’s ours.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></p>
<p>“I’m glad you’re pleased, Patty, dear, and I
only hope Nan will never regret marrying a
man so much older than herself.”
</p>
<p>“You’re not old, Papa Fairfield,” cried
Patty indignantly; “I won’t have you say such
a thing! Why, you’re not forty yet, and Nan
is twenty-four. Why, that’s hardly any difference
at all.”
</p>
<p>“So Nan says,” said Mr. Fairfield, smiling,
“so I dare say my arithmetic’s at fault.”
</p>
<p>“Of course it is,” said Patty, “and you
don’t look a bit old either. Why, you look as
young as Mr. Hepworth, and he looks nearly
as young as Kenneth, and Kenneth’s only two
years older than I am.”
</p>
<p>“That sounds a little complicated, Patty, but
I’m sure you mean it as a compliment, so I’ll
take it as such.”
</p>
<p>A little before eight o’clock, Patty, in her
shimmering gown, went dancing downstairs.
</p>
<p>The rooms were already crowded with
guests, and the first familiar face Patty saw
was that of Mr. Hepworth, who came toward
her with a glad smile of greeting.
</p>
<p>“How grown-up we are looking to-night,”
he said. “I shall have to paint your portrait
all over again, and you must wear that gown,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span>
and we will call it, ‘A Moonlight Sonata,’ and
send it to the exhibition.”
</p>
<p>“That will be lovely!” exclaimed Patty;
“but can you paint silver?”
</p>
<p>“Well, I could try to get a silvery effect, at
least.”
</p>
<p>“That wouldn’t do; it must be the real
thing. I think you could only get it right by
using aluminum paint like they paint the letter-boxes
with.”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Hepworth, “that would
be realistic, at least, but I see a crowd of your
young friends coming this way, and I feel quite
sure they mean to carry you off. So won’t you
promise me a dance or two, when the time
comes for that part of the programme?”
</p>
<p>“Yes, indeed,” said Patty, “and there is
going to be dancing after the supper.”
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth looked after Patty, as, all
unconscious of his gaze, she went on through
the rooms with the young friends who had
claimed her.
</p>
<p>Gilbert Hepworth had long realised his
growing interest in Patty, and acknowledged to
himself that he loved the girl devotedly. But
he had never by word or look intimated this,
and had no intention of doing so until she
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span>
should be some years older. He, himself, was
thirty-four, and he knew that must seem old
indeed to a girl of seventeen. So he really had
little hope that he ever could win her for his
own, but he allowed himself the pleasure of her
society whenever opportunity offered, and it
pleased him to do for her such acts of courtesy
and kindness as could not be construed into special
attentions, or indication of an unwelcome
devotion.
</p>
<p>Among the group that surrounded Patty was
Kenneth Harper, a college boy who was a good
chum of Patty’s and a favourite with Mr. Fairfield.
Marian and Frank were with them, also
Bob and Bumble, the Barlow Twins, and a
number of the Philadelphia young people.
</p>
<p>This group laughed and chatted merrily
until the orchestra struck up the wedding
march, and an expectant hush fell upon the
assembly.
</p>
<p>At Nan’s special request, there were no
bridesmaids, and when the bride entered with
her father, she was, as Patty had prophesied, a
perfect picture in her beautiful wedding gown.
</p>
<p>Mr. Fairfield seemed to think so too, and
his happy smile as he came to meet her, gave
Patty a thrill of gladness to think that this happiness
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span>
had come to her father. His life had
been lonely, and she was glad that it was to be
shared by such a truly sweet and lovely woman
as Nan.
</p>
<p>Patty was the first to congratulate the
wedded pair, and Mr. Hepworth, who was an
usher, escorted her up to them that she might
do so. Patty kissed both the bride and the
bridegroom with whole-hearted affection, and
after a few merry words turned away to give
place to others.
</p>
<p>“Come on, Patty,” said Kenneth, “a whole
crowd of us are going to camp out in one of
those jolly cozy corners on the verandah, and
have our supper there.”
</p>
<p>So Patty went with the merry crowd, and
found that Kenneth had selected a conveniently
located spot near one of the dining-room
windows.
</p>
<p>“I’m so glad it’s supper time,” she said, as
they settled themselves comfortably in their
chosen retreat. “I’ve been so busy and excited
to-day that I’ve hardly eaten a thing, and I’m
starving with hunger. And now that I’ve got
my father safely married, and off my hands, I
feel relieved of a great responsibility, and can
eat my supper with a mind at rest.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span></p>
<p>“When I’m married,” said Helen Barlow,
“I mean to have a wedding exactly like this
one. I think it’s the loveliest one I ever saw.”
</p>
<p>“You won’t, though, Bumble,” said Patty,
laughing. “In the first place, you’ll forget to
order your wedding gown until a day or two
before the occasion, and of course it won’t be
done. And then you’ll forget to send out the
invitations, so of course you’ll have no guests.
And I’m sure you’ll forget to invite the minister,
so there’ll be no ceremony, anyway.”
</p>
<p>Bumble laughed good-naturedly at this, for
the helter-skelter ways of the Barlow family
were well known to everybody.
</p>
<p>“It would be that way,” she said, “if I
looked after things myself, but I shall expect
you, Patty, to take entire charge of the occasion,
and then everything will go along like
clockwork.”
</p>
<p>“Are you staying long in Philadelphia, Miss
Fairfield?” asked Ethel Banks, a Philadelphia
girl, who lived not far from the Allens.
</p>
<p>“A few days longer,” said Patty. “I have
to go back to New York next Tuesday, and
then no more gaiety for me. I don’t know how
I shall survive such a sudden change, but after
this mad whirl of parties and things, I have to
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span>
come down to plain everyday studying of lessons,—but
we won’t talk about that now; it’s
a painful subject to me at any time, but especially
when I’m at a party.”
</p>
<p>“Me, too,” said Kenneth. “If ever I get
through college, I don’t think I’ll want to see a
book for the next twenty years.”
</p>
<p>“I didn’t know you hated your lessons so,
Kenneth,” said Marian. “I thought Patty
was the only one of my friends who was willing
to avow that she was like that ‘Poor little Paul,
who didn’t like study at all.’”
</p>
<p>“Yes, I’m a Paul too,” said Kenneth, “and
I may as well own up to it.”
</p>
<p>“But you don’t let it interfere with your
work,” said Patty; “you dig just as hard as if
you really enjoyed it.”
</p>
<p>“So do you,” said Kenneth, “but some day
after we have both been graduated, I suppose
we’ll be glad that we did our digging after
all.”
</p>
<p>A little later, Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield went
away, amid showers of <i>confetti</i>, and after that
there was an hour of informal dancing.
</p>
<p>Patty was besieged with partners asking for
a dance, and as there was no programme, she
would make no promises, but accepted whoever
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span>
might ask her first at the beginning of each
dance. She liked to dance with Kenneth, for
his step suited hers perfectly, and her cousin
Bob was also an exceptionally good dancer.
</p>
<p>But Patty showed no partiality, and enjoyed
all the dances with her usual enthusiasm.
</p>
<p>Suddenly she remembered that she had
promised Mr. Hepworth a dance, but he had
not come to claim it. Wondering, she looked
around to see where he might be, and discovered
him watching her from across the room.
</p>
<p>There was an amused smile on his face, and
Patty went to him, and asked him in her direct
way, why he didn’t claim his dance.
</p>
<p>“You are so surrounded,” he said, “by
other and more attractive partners, that I hated
to disturb you.”
</p>
<p>“Nonsense,” said Patty, without a trace of
self-consciousness or embarrassment. “I like
you better than lots of these Philadelphia boys.
Come on.”
</p>
<p>“Thank you for the compliment,” said Mr.
Hepworth, as they began to dance, “but you
seemed to be finding these Philadelphia boys
very agreeable.”
</p>
<p>“They’re nice enough,” said Patty, carelessly,
“and some of them are good dancers,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span>
but not as good as you are, Mr. Hepworth.
Do you know you dance like a—like a—will-o’-the-wisp.”
</p>
<p>“I never met a will-o’-the-wisp, but I’m sure
they must be delightful people, to judge from
the enthusiastic tone in which you mention
them. Do you never get tired of parties and
dancing, Patty?”
</p>
<p>“Oh, no, indeed. I love it all. But you see
I haven’t had very much. I’ve never been to
but two or three real dancing-parties in my life.
Why, I’ve only just outgrown children’s parties.
I may get tired of it all, after two or
three seasons, but as yet it’s such a novelty to
me that I enjoy every speck of it.”
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth suddenly realised how many
social seasons he had been through, and how
far removed he was from this young débutante
in his views on such matters. He assured himself
that he need never hope she would take
any special interest in him, and he vowed she
should never know of his feelings toward her.
So he adapted his mood to hers, and chatted
gaily of the events of the evening. Patty told
him of the many pleasures that had been
planned for her, during the rest of her visit at
Mrs. Allen’s, and he was truly glad that the
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span>
girl was to have a taste of the social gaiety that
so strongly appealed to her.
</p>
<p>“Miss Fairfield,” said Ethel Banks, coming
up to Patty, as the music stopped, “I’ve been
talking with my father, and he says if you and
Mr. and Mrs. Allen will go, he’ll take us all
in the automobile down to Atlantic City for the
week-end.”
</p>
<p>“How perfectly gorgeous!” cried Patty,
her eyes dancing with delight. “I’d love to go.
I’ve never been in an automobile but a few
times in my life, and never for such a long trip
as that. Let’s go and ask Mrs. Allen at once.”
</p>
<p>Without further thought of Mr. Hepworth,
save to give him a smiling nod as she turned
away, Patty went with Ethel to ask Mrs. Allen
about the projected trip.
</p>
<p>Mrs. Allen was delighted to go, and said she
would also answer for her husband. So it was
arranged, and the girls went dancing back to
Mr. Banks to tell him so. Ethel’s father was a
kind-hearted, hospitable man, whose principal
thought was to give pleasure to his only child.
Ethel had no mother, and Mrs. Allen had often
before chaperoned the girl on similar excursions
to the one now in prospect.
</p>
<p>As Mr. Banks was an enthusiastic motorist,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span>
and drove his own car, there was ample room
for Mr. and Mrs. Allen and Patty.
</p>
<p>Soon the wedding guests departed, and Patty
was glad to take off her pretty gown and tumble
into bed.
</p>
<p>She slept late the next morning, and awoke
to find Mrs. Allen sitting on the bed beside her,
caressing her curly hair.
</p>
<p>“I hate to waken you,” said that lady, “but
it’s after ten o’clock, and you know you are to
go to your Cousin Helen’s to spend the day. I
want you to come home early this evening, as I
have a little party planned for you, and so it’s
only right that you should start as soon as possible
this morning. Here is a nice cup of cocoa
and a bit of toast. Let me slip a kimono
around you, while you breakfast.”
</p>
<p>In her usual busy way, Mrs. Allen fluttered
about, while she talked, and after putting a
kimono round her visitor, she drew up beside
her a small table, containing a dainty breakfast
tray.
</p>
<p>“It’s just as well you’re going away to-day,”
Mrs. Allen chattered on, “because the house
is a perfect sight. Not one thing is in its place,
and about a dozen men have already arrived to
try to straighten out the chaos. So, as you may
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span>
judge, my dear, since I have to superintend all
these things, I’ll really get along better without
you. Now, you get dressed, and run right
along to the Barlows’. James will take you
over in the pony cart, and he’ll come for you
again at eight o’clock this evening. Mind, now,
you’re not to stay a minute after eight o’clock,
for I have invited some young people here to
see you. I’ll send the carriage to-night, and
then you can bring your Barlow cousins back
with you.”
</p>
<p>As Mrs. Allen rattled on, she had been fussing
around the room getting out Patty’s clothes
to wear that day, and acting in such a generally
motherly manner that Patty felt sure she must
be missing Nan, and she couldn’t help feeling
very sorry for her, and told her so.
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Mrs. Allen, “it’s awful. I’ve
only just begun to realise that I’ve lost my girl;
still it had to come, I suppose, sooner or later,
and I wouldn’t put a straw in the way of Nan’s
happiness. Well, I shall get used to it in time,
I suppose, and then sometimes I shall expect
Nan to come and visit me.”
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='III_ATLANTIC_CITY' id='III_ATLANTIC_CITY'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span>
<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
<h3>ATLANTIC CITY</h3>
</div>
<p>Patty’s day at the Barlows’ was a decided
contrast to her visit at Mrs.
Allen’s.
</p>
<p>In the Allen home every detail of housekeeping
was complete and very carefully looked
after, while at the Barlows’ everything went
along in a slipshod, hit-or-miss fashion.
</p>
<p>Patty well remembered her visit at their summer
home which they called the Hurly-Burly,
and she could not see that their city residence
was any less deserving of the name. Her Aunt
Grace and Uncle Ted were jolly, good-natured
people, who cared little about system or method
in their home. The result was that things often
went wrong, but nobody cared especially if they
did.
</p>
<p>“I meant to have a nicer luncheon for you,
Patty,” said her aunt, as they sat down at the
table, “but the cook forgot to order lobsters,
and when I telephoned for fresh peas the grocer
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span>
said I was too late, for they were all sold.
I’m so sorry, for I do love hothouse peas, don’t
you?”
</p>
<p>“I don’t care what I have to eat, Aunt
Grace. I just came to visit you people, you
know, and the luncheon doesn’t matter a bit.”
</p>
<p>“That’s nice of you to say so, child. I remember
what an adaptable little thing you were
when you were with us down in the country,
and really, you did us quite a lot of good that
summer. You taught Bumble how to keep her
bureau drawers in order. She’s forgotten it
now, but it was nice while it lasted.”
</p>
<p>“<i>Helen</i>, Mother, I do wish you would call
me Helen. Bumble is such a silly name.”
</p>
<p>“I know it, my dear,” said Mrs. Barlow,
placidly, “and I do mean to, but you see I
forget.”
</p>
<p>“I forget it, too,” said Patty. “But I’ll try
to call you Helen if you want me to. What
time does Uncle Ted come home, Aunt
Grace?”
</p>
<p>“Oh, about five o’clock, or perhaps six; and
sometimes he gets here at four. I never know
what time he’s coming home.”
</p>
<p>“It isn’t only that,” said Bob; “in fact,
father usually comes home about the same time.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span>
But our clocks are all so different that it depends
on which room mother is in, as to what
time she thinks it is.”
</p>
<p>“That’s so,” said Helen. “We have eleven
clocks in this house, Patty, and every one of
them is always wrong. Still, it’s convenient in
a way; if you want to go anywhere at a certain
time, no matter what time you start, you can
always find at least one clock that’s about where
you want it to be.”
</p>
<p>“I’m sure I don’t see why the clocks don’t
keep the right time,” said Mrs. Barlow. “A
man comes every Saturday on purpose to wind
and set them all.”
</p>
<p>“We fool with them,” confessed Bob.
“You see, Patty, we all like to get up late, and
we set our clocks back every night, so that we
can do it with a good grace.”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Helen, “and then if we want
each other to go anywhere through the day,—on
time, you know,—we go around the house,
and set all the clocks forward. That’s the only
possible way to make anybody hurry up.”
</p>
<p>Patty laughed. The whole conversation was
so characteristic of the Barlows as she remembered
them, and she wondered how they could
enjoy living in such a careless way.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span></p>
<p>But they were an especially happy family,
and most hospitable and entertaining. Patty
thoroughly enjoyed her afternoon, although
they did nothing in particular for her entertainment.
But Aunt Grace was very fond of her
motherless niece, and the twins just adored
Patty.
</p>
<p>At five o’clock tea was served, and though
the appointments were not at all like Mrs.
Allen’s carefully equipped service, yet it was an
hour of comfortable enjoyment. Uncle Ted
came home, and he was so merry and full of
jokes, that he made them all laugh. Two or
three casual callers dropped in, and Patty
thought again, as she sometimes did, that
perhaps she liked her Barlow cousins best of
all.
</p>
<p>Dinner, not entirely to Patty’s surprise,
showed some of the same characteristics as
luncheon had done. The salad course was lacking,
because the mayonnaise dressing had been
upset in the refrigerator; the ice cream was
spoiled, because by mistake the freezer had
been set in the sun until the ice melted, and the
pretty pink pyramid was in a state of soft
collapse.
</p>
<p>But, as Aunt Grace cheerfully remarked, if
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span>
it hadn’t been that, it would have been something
else, and it didn’t matter much, anyway.
</p>
<p>It was this happy philosophy of the Barlow
family that charmed Patty so, and it left no
room for embarrassment at these minor accidents,
either on the part of the family or their
guest.
</p>
<p>“Now,” said Patty, after dinner, “if necessary,
I’m going to set all the clocks forward,
for, Helen, I do want you to be ready when
Mrs. Allen sends for us. She doesn’t like to be
kept waiting, one bit.”
</p>
<p>“Never mind the clocks, Patty,” said Helen
good-naturedly. “I’ll be ready.” She scampered
off to dress, and sure enough was entirely
ready before the carriage came.
</p>
<p>“You see, Patty,” she said, “we <i>can</i> do
things on time, only we’ve fallen into the habit
of not doing so, unless there’s somebody like
you here to spur us up.”
</p>
<p>Patty admitted this, but told Bumble that
she was sorry her influence was not more
lasting.
</p>
<hr class='tb' />
<p>On Saturday they started with the Banks’s
on the automobile trip. Mrs. Allen provided
Patty with a long coat for the journey, and a
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span>
veil to tie over her hat. Not being accustomed
to motoring, Patty did not have appropriate
garments, and Mrs. Allen took delight in fitting
her out with some of Nan’s.
</p>
<p>Mr. Banks’s motor-car was of the largest and
finest type. It was what is called a palace touring
car, and represented the highest degree of
comfort and luxury.
</p>
<p>Patty had never been in such a beautiful machine,
and when she was snugly tucked in the
tonneau between Mrs. Allen and Ethel, Mr.
Banks and Mr. Allen climbed into the front
seat, and they started off.
</p>
<p>The ride to Atlantic City was most exhilarating,
and Patty enjoyed every minute of it.
There was a top to the machine, for which
reason the force of the wind was not so uncomfortable,
and the tourists were able to converse
with each other.
</p>
<p>“I thought,” said Patty, “that when people
went in these big cars, at this fearful rate of
speed, you could hardly hear yourself think,
much less talk to each other. What’s the name
of your car, Mr. Banks?”
</p>
<p>“The Flying Dutchman,” was the reply.
</p>
<p>“It’s a flyer, all right,” said Patty, “but I
don’t see anything Dutch about it.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span></p>
<p>“That’s in honour of one of my ancestors,
who, they tell me, came over from Holland
some hundreds of years ago.”
</p>
<p>“Then it’s a most appropriate name,” said
Patty, “and it’s the most beautiful and comfortable
car I ever saw.”
</p>
<p>They went spinning on mile after mile at
what Patty thought was terrific speed, but
which Mr. Banks seemed to consider merely
moderate. After a while, seeing how interested
Patty was in the mechanism of the car,
Mr. Allen offered to change seats with her, and
let her sit with Mr. Banks, while that gentleman
explained to her the working of it.
</p>
<p>Patty gladly made the change, and eagerly
listened while Mr. Banks explained the steering
gear, and as much of the motor apparatus as he
could make clear to her.
</p>
<p>Patty liked Mr. Banks. He was a kind and
courteous gentleman, and treated her with a
deference that gave Patty a sudden sense of importance.
It seemed strange to think that she,
little Patty Fairfield, was the honoured guest of
the well-known Mr. Banks of Philadelphia.
She did her best to be polite and entertaining in
return, and the result was very pleasant, and
also very instructive in the art of motoring.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span></p>
<p>They reached Atlantic City late in the afternoon,
and went at once to a large hotel, where
Mr. Banks had telegraphed ahead for rooms.
</p>
<p>Patty and Ethel had adjoining rooms, and
the Allens and Mr. Banks had rooms across the
hall from them.
</p>
<p>Patty had begun to like Ethel before this
trip had been planned, and as she knew her
better she liked her more. Ethel Banks, though
the only daughter of a millionaire, was not in
the least proud or ostentatious. She was a
sweet, simple-minded girl, with friendly ways,
and a good comradeship soon developed between
her and Patty.
</p>
<p>She was a little older than Patty, and had
just come out in society during the past winter.
</p>
<p>As Patty was still a schoolgirl, she could not
be considered as “out,” but of course on occasions
like the present, such formalities made
little or no difference.
</p>
<p>“Now, my dear,” said Mr. Banks to Ethel,
“if you and Miss Fairfield will hasten your
toilettes a little, we will have time for a ride
on the board walk before dinner.” This pleased
the girls, and in a short time they had changed
their travelling clothes for pretty light-coloured
frocks, and went downstairs to find Mr. Banks
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>
waiting for them on the verandah. He explained
that the Allens would not go with them
on this expedition, so the three started off. As
their hotel faced the ocean, it was just a step to
the wide and beautiful board walk that runs for
miles along the beach at Atlantic City.
</p>
<p>In all her life Patty had never seen such a
sight as this before, and the beauty and wonder
of it all nearly took her breath away.
</p>
<p>The board walk was forty feet wide, and was
like a moving picture of gaily-dressed and
happy-faced people.
</p>
<p>Although early in April, it seemed like summer
time, so balmy was the air, so bright the
sunshine. Patty gazed with delight at the blue
ocean, dotted with whitecaps, and then back to
the wonderful panorama of the gay crowd, the
music of the bands, and the laughter of the
children.
</p>
<p>“The best way to get an idea of the extent
of this thing,” said Mr. Banks, “is to take a
ride in the wheeled chairs. You two girls hop
into that double one, and I will take this single
one, and we’ll go along the walk for a mile
or so.”
</p>
<p>The chairs were propelled by strong young
coloured men, who were affable and polite, and
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span>
who explained the sights as they passed them,
and pointed out places of interest. Patty said
to Ethel that she felt as if she were in a perambulator,
except that she wasn’t strapped in.
But she soon became accustomed to the slow,
gentle motion of the chairs, and declared that
it was indeed an ideal way to see the beautiful
place. On one side was an endless row of small
shops or bazaars, where wares of all sorts were
offered for sale. At one of these, a booth of
oriental trinkets, Mr. Banks stopped and
bought each of the girls a necklace of gay-coloured
beads. They were not valuable ornaments,
but had a quaint, foreign air, and were
very pretty in their own way. Patty was greatly
pleased, and when they passed another booth
which contained exquisite Armenian embroideries,
she begged Ethel to accept the little gift
from her, and picking out some filmy needle-worked
handkerchiefs, she gave them to her
friend.
</p>
<p>On they went, past the several long piers,
until Mr. Banks said it was time to turn around
if they would reach the hotel in time for dinner.
</p>
<p>So back they went to the hotel, and, after
finding the Allens, they all went to the dining-room.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span></p>
<p>Privately, Patty wondered how these people
could spend so much time eating dinner, when
they might be out on the beach. At last, to her
great satisfaction, dinner was over, and Mr.
Allen proposed that they all go out for a short
stroll on the board walk.
</p>
<p>Although it had been a gay scene in the
afternoon, that was as nothing to the evening
effect. Thousands,—millions, it seemed to
Patty,—of electric lights in various wonderful
devices, and in every possible colour, made the
place as light as day, and the varied gorgeousness
of the whole scene made it seem, as Patty
said, like a big kaleidoscope.
</p>
<p>They walked gaily along, mingling with the
good-natured crowd, noticing various sights or
incidents here and there, until they reached the
great steel pier, where Mr. Allen invited them
to go with him to the concert. So in they went
to listen to a band concert. This pleased Patty,
for she was especially fond of a brass band, but
Mrs. Allen said it was nothing short of
pandemonium.
</p>
<p>“Your tastes are barbaric, Patty,” she said,
laughing. “You love light and colour and
noise, and I don’t believe you could have too
much of any of the three.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></p>
<p>“I don’t believe I could,” said Patty, laughing
herself, as the music banged and crashed.
</p>
<p>“And that gewgaw you’ve got hanging
around your neck,” went on Mrs. Allen;
“your fancy for that proves you a true barbarian.”
</p>
<p>“I think it’s lovely,” said Patty, looking at
her gay-coloured beads. “I don’t care if I do
like crazy things. Ethel likes these beads,
too.”
</p>
<p>“That’s all right,” said Mrs. Allen. “Of
course you like them, chickadees, and they look
very pretty with your light frocks. It’s no
crime, Patty, to be barbaric. It only means you
have youth and enthusiasm and a capacity for
enjoyment.”
</p>
<p>“Indeed I have,” said Patty. “I’m enjoying
all this so much that I feel as if I should
just burst, or fly away, or something.”
</p>
<p>“Don’t fly away yet,” said Ethel. “We
can’t spare you. There are lots more things
to see.”
</p>
<p>And so there were. After the concert they
walked on, and on, continually seeing new and
interesting scenes of one sort or another. Indeed,
they walked so far that Mr. Allen said
they must take chairs back. So again they got
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span>
into the rolling chairs, and rolled slowly back
to the hotel.
</p>
<p>Patty was thoroughly tired out, but very
happy, and went to sleep with the music of the
dashing surf sounding in her ears.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='IV_LESSONS_AGAIN' id='IV_LESSONS_AGAIN'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span>
<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
<h3>LESSONS AGAIN</h3>
</div>
<p>But all this fun and frolic soon came to
an end, and Patty returned to New
York to take up her studies again.
</p>
<p>Grandma Elliott was waiting for her in the
pretty apartment home, and welcomed her
warmly.
</p>
<p>Mrs. Elliott and Patty were to stay at The
Wilberforce only about a fortnight longer.
Then Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield were to return
and take Patty away with them to the new
home on Seventy-second Street. Then the
apartment in The Wilberforce was to be given
up, and Grandma Elliott would return to Vernondale,
where her son’s family eagerly
awaited her.
</p>
<p>“I’ve had a perfectly beautiful time, Grandma,”
said Patty, as she took off her wraps,
“but I haven’t time to tell you about it now.
Just think, school begins again to-morrow, and
I haven’t even looked at my lessons. I thought
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span>
I would study some in Philadelphia, but goodness
me, there wasn’t a minute’s time to do anything
but frivol. The wedding was just gorgeous!
Nan was a dream, and papa looked
like an Adonis. I’ll tell you more at dinner
time, but now I really must get to work.”
</p>
<p>It was already late in the afternoon, but
Patty brought out her books, and studied away
zealously until dinner time. Then making a
hasty toilette, she went down to the dining-room
with grandma, and during dinner gave
the old lady a more detailed account of her
visit.
</p>
<p>After dinner, Lorraine Hamilton and the
Hart girls joined them in the parlour. But
after chatting for a few moments with them,
Patty declared she must go back to her studies.
</p>
<p>“It’s awfully hard,” she said to Lorraine,
as they walked to school next morning, “to settle
down to work after having such a gay vacation.
I do believe, Lorraine, that I never was
intended for a student.”
</p>
<p>“You’re doing too much,” said Lorraine.
“It’s perfectly silly of you, Patty, to try to
cram two years’ work into one, the way you’re
doing.”
</p>
<p>“No, it isn’t,” said Patty, “because then I
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span>
won’t have to go to school next year, and that
will be worth all this hard work now.”
</p>
<p>“I’m awfully sorry you’re going away from
The Wilberforce,” said Lorraine. “I shall
miss you terribly.”
</p>
<p>“I know it, and I’ll miss you, too; but Seventy-second
Street isn’t very far away, and you
must come to see me often.”
</p>
<p>The schoolgirls all welcomed Patty back,
for she was a general favourite, and foremost in
all the recreations and pleasures, as well as the
classes of the Oliphant school.
</p>
<p>“Oh, Patty,” cried Elise Farrington, as she
met her in the cloakroom, “what do you think?
We’re going to get up a play for commencement.
An original play, and act it ourselves,
and we want you to write it, and act in it, and
stage-manage it, and all. Will you, Patty?”
</p>
<p>“Of course I will,” said Patty. “That is,
I’ll help. I won’t write it all alone, nor act it
all by myself, either. I don’t suppose it’s to be
a monologue, is it?”
</p>
<p>“No,” said Elise, laughing. “We’re all to
be in it, and of course we’ll all help write it, but
you must be at the head of it, and see that it all
goes on properly.”
</p>
<p>“All right,” said Patty, good-naturedly,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span>
“I’ll do all I can, but you know I’m pretty busy
this year, Elise.”
</p>
<p>“I know it, Patty, and you needn’t do much
on this thing. Just superintend, and help us
out here and there.”
</p>
<p>Then the girls went into the class room and
the day’s work began.
</p>
<p>Patty had grown very fond of Elise, and
though some of the other girls looked upon her
as rather haughty, and what they called stuck-up,
Patty failed to discern any such traits in her
friend; and though Elise was a daughter of a
millionaire, and lived a petted and luxurious
life, yet, to Patty’s way of thinking, she was
more sincere and simple in her friendship than
many of the other girls.
</p>
<p>After school that day Elise begged Patty to
go home with her and begin the play.
</p>
<p>“Can’t do it,” said Patty. “I must go home
and study.”
</p>
<p>“Oh, just come for a little while; the other
girls are coming, and if you help us get the
thing started, we can work at it ourselves, you
know.”
</p>
<p>“Well, I’ll go,” said Patty, “but I can only
stay a few minutes.”
</p>
<p>So they all went home with Elise, and settled
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span>
themselves in her attractive casino to compose
their great work.
</p>
<p>But as might be expected from a group of
chattering schoolgirls, they did not progress
very rapidly.
</p>
<p>“Tell us all about your fun in Philadelphia,
Patty,” said Adelaide Hart.
</p>
<p>And as Patty enthusiastically recounted the
gaieties of her visit, the time slipped away until
it was five o’clock, and not a word had been
written.
</p>
<p>“Girls, I must go,” cried Patty, looking at
her watch. “I have an awful lot of studying
to do, and I really oughtn’t to have come here
at all.”
</p>
<p>“Oh, wait a little longer,” pleaded Elise.
“We must get the outline of this thing.”
</p>
<p>“No, I can’t,” said Patty, “I really can’t;
but I’ll come Saturday morning, and will work
on it then, if you like.”
</p>
<p>Patty hurried away, and when she reached
home she found Kenneth Harper waiting for
her.
</p>
<p>“I thought you’d never come,” he said, as
she arrived. “Your school keeps very late,
doesn’t it?”
</p>
<p>“Oh, I’ve been visiting since school,” said
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span>
Patty. “I oughtn’t to have gone, but I haven’t
seen the girls for so long, and they had a plan
on hand that they wanted to discuss with me.”
</p>
<p>“I have a plan on hand, too,” said Kenneth.
“I’ve been talking it over with Mrs. Elliott,
and she has been kind enough to agree to it. A
crowd of us are going to the matinée on Saturday,
and we want you to go. Mrs. Morse has
kindly consented to act as chaperon, and there’ll
be about twelve in the party. Will you go,
Patty?”
</p>
<p>“Will I go!” cried Patty. “Indeed I will,
Ken. Nothing could keep me at home. Won’t
it be lots of fun?”
</p>
<p>“Yes, it will,” said Kenneth, “and I’m so
glad you will go. I was afraid you’d say those
old lessons of yours were in the way.”
</p>
<p>Patty’s face fell.
</p>
<p>“I oughtn’t to go,” she said, “for I’ve
promised the girls to spend Saturday morning
with them, and now this plan of yours means
that I shall lose the whole day, and I have so
much to do on Saturday; an extra theme to
write, and a lot of back work to make up. Oh,
Ken, I oughtn’t to go.”
</p>
<p>“Oh, come ahead. You can do those things
Saturday evening.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></p>
<p>Patty sighed. She knew she wouldn’t feel
much like work Saturday evening, but she
couldn’t resist the temptation of the gay party
Saturday afternoon. So she agreed to go, and
Kenneth went away much pleased.
</p>
<p>“What do you think, grandma?” said she.
“Do you think I ought to have given up the
matinée, and stayed at home to study?”
</p>
<p>“No, indeed,” said Grandma Elliott, who
was an easy-going old lady. “You’ll enjoy the
afternoon with your young friends, and, as
Kenneth says, you can study in the evening.”
</p>
<p>So when Saturday came Patty spent the
morning with Elise. The other girls were
there, and they really got to work on their play,
and planned the scenes and the characters.
</p>
<p>“It will be perfectly lovely!” exclaimed
Adelaide Hart. “I’m so glad for our class to
do something worth while. It will be a great
deal nicer than the tableaux of last year.”
</p>
<p>“But it will be an awful lot of work,” said
Hilda Henderson. “All those costumes,
though they seem so simple, will be quite troublesome
to get up, and the scenery will be no
joke.”
</p>
<p>“Perhaps Mr. Hepworth will help us with
the scenery,” said Patty. “He did once when
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span>
we had a kind of a little play in Vernondale,
where I used to live. He’s an artist, you know,
and he can sketch in scenes in a minute, and
make them look as if they had taken days to do.
He’s awfully clever at it, and so kind that I
think he’ll consent to do it.”
</p>
<p>“That will be regularly splendid!” said
Elise, “and you’d better ask him at once, Patty,
so as to give him as much time as possible.”
</p>
<p>“No, I won’t ask him quite yet,” said Patty,
laughing. “I think I’ll wait until the play is
written, first. I don’t believe it’s customary to
engage a scene painter before a play is scarcely
begun.”
</p>
<p>“Well, then, let’s get at it,” said Hilda, who
was practical.
</p>
<p>So to work they went, and really wrote the
actual lines of a good part of the first act.
</p>
<p>“Now, that’s something like,” said Patty,
as, when the clock struck noon, she looked with
satisfaction on a dozen or more pages, neatly
written in Hilda’s pretty penmanship. “If we
keep on like that, we can get this thing done in
five or six Saturday mornings, and then I’ll ask
Mr. Hepworth about the scenery. Then we
can begin to rehearse, and we’ll just about be
ready for commencement day.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span></p>
<p>While Patty was with the girls, her interest
and enthusiasm were so great that the play
seemed the only thing to be thought of. But
when she reached home and saw the pile of untouched
schoolbooks and remembered that she
would be away all the afternoon, she felt many
misgivings.
</p>
<p>However, she had promised to go, so off she
went to the matinée, and had a thoroughly
pleasant and enjoyable time. Mrs. Morse invited
her to go home to dinner with Clementine,
saying that she would send her home safely
afterward.
</p>
<p>Clementine added her plea that this invitation
might be accepted, but Patty said no. Although
she wanted very much to go with the
Morses, yet she knew that duty called her home.
So she regretfully declined, giving her reason,
and went home, determined to work hard at her
themes and her lessons. But after her merry
day with her young friends, she was not only
tired physically, but found great difficulty in
concentrating her thoughts on more prosaic subjects.
But Patty had pretty strong will-power,
and she forced herself to go at her work in earnest.
Grandma Elliott watched her, as she
pored over one book after another, or hastily
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span>
scribbled her themes. A little pucker formed
itself between her brows, and a crimson flush
appeared on her cheeks.
</p>
<p>At ten o’clock Mrs. Elliott asserted her authority.
</p>
<p>“Patty,” she said, “you must go to bed.
You’ll make yourself ill if you work so hard.”
</p>
<p>Patty pushed back her books. “I believe
I’ll have to, grandma,” she said. “My head’s
all in a whirl, and the letters are dancing jigs
before my eyes.”
</p>
<p>Exhausted, Patty crept into bed, and though
she slept late next morning, Grandma Elliott
imagined that her face still bore traces of worry
and hard work.
</p>
<p>“Nonsense, grandma,” said Patty, laughing.
“I guess my robust constitution can stand a
little extra exertion once in a while. I’ll try to
take it easier this week, and I believe I’ll give
up my gymnasium work. That will give me
more time, and won’t interfere with getting my
diploma.”
</p>
<p>But though Patty gained a few extra half
hours by omitting the gymnasium class, she
missed the daily exercise more than she would
admit even to herself.
</p>
<p>“You’re getting round-shouldered, Patty,”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span>
said Lorraine, one day; “and I believe it’s
because you work so hard over those old
lessons.”
</p>
<p>“It isn’t the work, Lorraine,” said Patty,
laughing. “It’s the play. I had to rewrite the
whole of that garden scene last night, after I
finished my lessons.”
</p>
<p>“Why, what was the matter with it?”
</p>
<p>“It was all wrong. We didn’t think of it at
the time, but in one place Elise has to go off at
one side of the stage, and, immediately after,
come on at the other side, in different dress.
Now, of course, that won’t do; it has to be arranged
so that she will have time to change her
costume. So I had to write in some lines for
the others. And there were several little things
like that to be looked after, so I had to do over
pretty nearly the whole scene.”
</p>
<p>“It’s a shame, Patty! We make you do all
the hardest of the work.”
</p>
<p>“Not a bit of it. I love to do it; and when
we all work together and chatter so, of course
we don’t think it out carefully enough, and so
these mistakes creep in. Don’t say anything
about it, Lorraine. The girls will never notice
my little changes and corrections, and I don’t
want to pose as a poor, pale martyr, growing
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span>
round-shouldered in her efforts to help her fellow-sisters!”
</p>
<p>“You’re a brick, Patty, but I will tell them,
all the same. If we’re all going to write this
play together, we’re going to do it all, and not
have you doing our work for us.”
</p>
<p>Lorraine’s loyalty to Patty was unbounded,
and as she had, moreover, a trace of stubbornness
in her character, Patty knew that no
amount of argument would move her from her
determination to straighten matters out. So
she gave up the discussion, only saying, “You
won’t do a bit of good, Lorraine; and anyway,
somebody ought to revise the thing, and if I
don’t do it, who will?”
</p>
<p>Patty said this without a trace of egotism,
for she and Lorraine both knew that none of
the other girls had enough constructive talent
or dramatic capability to put the finishing
touches on the lines of the play. That was
Patty’s special forte, just as Clementine Morse
was the one best fitted to plan the scenic effects,
and Elise Farrington to design the costumes.
</p>
<p>“That’s so,” said Lorraine, with a little
sigh, “and I suppose, Patty, you’ll just go on
in your mad career, and do exactly as you
please.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span></p>
<p>“I suppose I shall,” said Patty, laughing at
Lorraine’s hopeless expression; “but I do want
this play to be a success, and I mean to help all
I can, in any way I can.”
</p>
<p>“It’s bound to be a success,” said Lorraine
with enthusiasm, “because the girls are all so
interested, and I think we’re all working hard
in our different ways. Of course I don’t have
anything to do except to look after the incidental
music, but I do hope that will turn out
all right.”
</p>
<p>“Of course it will, Lorraine,” said Patty.
“Your selections are perfect so far; and you do
look after more than that. Those two little
songs you wrote are gems, and they fit into the
second act just exactly right. I think you’re a
real poet, Lorraine, and after the play is over
I wish you’d get those little songs published.
I’m sure they’re worth it.”
</p>
<p>“I wish I could,” said Lorraine, “and I do
mean to try.”
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='V_A_NEW_HOME' id='V_A_NEW_HOME'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span>
<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
<h3>A NEW HOME</h3>
</div>
<p>Great was the rejoicing and celebration
when Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield returned
from their wedding trip. They
came to the apartment to remain there for a
few days before moving to the new house.
</p>
<p>Patty welcomed Nan with open arms, and it
was harder than ever for her to attend to her
studies when there was so much going on in the
family.
</p>
<p>The furnishing of the new house was almost
completed, but there remained several finishing
touches to be attended to. As Patty’s time was
so much occupied, she was not allowed to have
any hand in this work. Mrs. Allen had come
on from Philadelphia to help her daughter,
and Grandma Elliott assisted in dismantling the
apartment, preparatory to giving it up.
</p>
<p>So when Patty started to school one Friday
morning, and was told that when the session
was over she was to go to her new home to stay,
she felt as if she were going to an unexplored
country.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span></p>
<p>It was with joyful anticipations that she put
on her hat and coat, after school, and started
home.
</p>
<p>Her father had given her a latch-key, and as
she stepped in at the front door, Nan, in a
pretty house dress, stood ready to welcome her.
</p>
<p>“My dear child,” she said, “welcome home.
How do you like the prospect?”
</p>
<p>“It’s lovely,” said Patty, gazing around at
as much as she could see of the beautiful house
and its well-furnished rooms. “What a lot of
new things there are, and I recognise a good
many of the old ones, too. Oh, Nan, won’t we
be happy all here together?”
</p>
<p>“Indeed we will,” said Nan. “I think it’s
the loveliest house in the world, and mother
and Fred have fixed it up so prettily. Come up
and see your room, Patty.”
</p>
<p>A large, pleasant front room on the third
floor had been assigned to Patty’s use, and all
her own special and favourite belongings had
been placed there.
</p>
<p>“How dear of you, Nan, to arrange this all
for me, and put it all to rights. I really couldn’t
have taken the time to do it myself, but it’s just
the way I want it.”
</p>
<p>“And this,” said Nan, opening a door into
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span>
a small room adjoining, “is your own little
study, where you can be quiet and undisturbed,
while you’re studying those terrific lessons of
yours.”
</p>
<p>Patty gave a little squeal of delight at the
dainty library, furnished in green, and with her
own desk and bookcases already in place.
</p>
<p>“But don’t think,” Nan went on, “that we
shall let you stay here and grub away at those
books much of the time. An hour a day is all
we intend to allow you to be absent from our
family circle while you’re in the house.”
</p>
<p>“An hour a day to study!” exclaimed Patty.
“It’s more likely that an hour a day is all I
can give you of my valuable society.”
</p>
<p>“We’ll see about that,” said Nan, wagging
her head wisely. “You see I have some authority
now, and I intend to exercise it.”
</p>
<p>“Ha,” said Patty, dramatically, “I see it
will be war to the knife!”
</p>
<p>“To the knife!” declared Nan, as she ran
away laughing.
</p>
<p>Patty looked about her two lovely rooms
with genuine pleasure. She was like a cat in
her love of comfortable chairs and luxurious
cushions, and she fully appreciated the special
and individual care with which Nan and her
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span>
father had considered her tastes. Had she not
been so busy she would have preferred to have
a hand in the arranging of her rooms herself,
but as it was, she was thankful that someone
else had done it for her.
</p>
<p>Hastily throwing off her hat and coat, she
flung herself into a comfortable easy chair by
her library table, and was soon deep in her
French lesson.
</p>
<p>A couple of hours later Nan came up and
found her there.
</p>
<p>“Patty Fairfield!” she exclaimed. “You
are the worst I ever saw! Get right up and
dress for dinner! Your father will be home in
a few minutes, and I want you to help me receive
properly the master of the house.”
</p>
<p>Patty rubbed her eyes and blinked, as Nan
pulled the book away from her, and said,
“Why, what time is it?”
</p>
<p>“Time for you to stop studying, and come
out of your shell and mingle with the world.
Wake up!” and Nan gave Patty a little shake.
</p>
<p>Patty came to herself and jumped up, saying,
“Indeed, I’m glad enough to leave my horrid
books, and I’m hungry enough to eat any dinner
you may set before me. What shall I wear,
Nan?”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span></p>
<p>“Put on that pretty light blue thing of
yours, with the lace yoke. This is rather a festival
night, and we’re going to celebrate the
first dinner in our new home.”
</p>
<p>So Patty brushed her curly hair and tied on
a white ribbon bow of such exceeding size and
freshness that she looked almost as if wings
were sprouting from her shoulders. Then she
donned her light blue frock, and went dancing
downstairs, to find that her father had already
arrived.
</p>
<p>“Well, Pattikins,” he said, “can you feel at
home in this big house, after living so long in
our apartment?”
</p>
<p>“Yes, indeed,” said Patty, “any place is
home where you and Nan are.”
</p>
<p>The dinner passed off gaily enough. Only
the three were present, as Nan did not want any
guests the first night.
</p>
<p>Although the dining-room appointments
were those that had furnished the Fairfields’Vernondale home, yet they were so augmented
by numerous wedding gifts of Nan’s that Patty
felt as if she were at a dinner party of unusual
splendour.
</p>
<p>“It’s lovely to live in a house with a bride,”
she said, “because there are such beautiful silver
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span>
and glass things on the table, and on the
sideboard.”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Nan, glancing around her with
satisfaction. “I intend to use all my things. I
think it’s perfectly silly to pack them away in a
safe, and never have any good of them.”
</p>
<p>“But suppose burglars break in and steal
them,” said Patty.
</p>
<p>“Well, even so,” said Nan, placidly, “they
would be gone, but it wouldn’t be much different
from having them stored away in a safe deposit
company.”
</p>
<p>“Nan’s principle is right,” said Mr. Fairfield.
“Now, here’s the way I look at it: what
you can’t afford to lose, you can’t afford to buy.
Remember that, Patty, and if ever you are
tempted to invest a large sum of money in a
diamond or silver or any portable property,
look upon that money as gone forever. True,
you might realise on your possession in case of
need, but more likely you could not, and, too,
there is always the chance of losing it by carelessness
or theft. So remember that you can’t
afford to buy what you can’t afford to lose.”
</p>
<p>“That’s a new idea to me, papa,” said Patty,
“but I see what you mean and I know you are
right. However, there’s little chance of my
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span>
investing in silver at present, for I can just as
well use Nan’s.”
</p>
<p>“Of course you can,” said Nan, heartily;
“and whenever you want to have company, or
a party of any kind, you’ve only to mention it,
and not only my silver, but my servants and my
own best efforts are at your disposal.”
</p>
<p>“That’s lovely,” said Patty, “and I would
love to have parties and invite the schoolgirls
and some of the boys, but I can’t take the time
now. Why, I couldn’t spare an evening from
my studies to entertain the crowned heads of
Europe.”
</p>
<p>“Nonsense,” said Mr. Fairfield, “you
mustn’t work so hard, Puss; and anyway you’ll
have to spare this evening, for I asked Hepworth
to drop in, and I think two or three
others may come, and we’ll have a little informal
housewarming.”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Patty, dubiously, “and Kenneth
said he would call this evening, and Elise and
Roger may come in. So, as it’s Friday evening,
I’ll see them, of course; but after this I must
study every evening except Fridays.”
</p>
<p>A little later on, when a number of guests
had assembled in the Fairfields’ drawing-room,
Patty looked like anything but a bookworm,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span>
or a pale-faced student. Her eyes danced, and
the colour glowed in her pretty face, for she
was very fond of merry society, and always
looked her prettiest when thus animated.
</p>
<p>She and Elise entertained the others by quoting
some bits from the school play, Nan sang
for them, and Kenneth gave some of his clever
and funny impersonations.
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth declared that he had no parlour
tricks, but Patty asserted that he had, and
she ran laughing from the room, to return with
several large sheets of paper and a stick of
drawing charcoal. Then she decreed that Mr.
Hepworth should draw caricature portraits of
all those present. After a little demurring, the
artist consented, and shrieks of laughter arose
as his clever pencil swiftly sketched a humorous
portrait of each one.
</p>
<p>“It’s right down jolly,” said Kenneth to
Patty, “your having a big house of your own
like this. Mayn’t I come often to see you?
Mrs. Nan is so kind, she always has a welcome
for me.”
</p>
<p>“You may come and accept her welcome
whenever you like,” said Patty, “but I can’t
promise to see you, Ken, except Friday evenings.
Honestly, I don’t have one minute to
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span>
myself. You see, we rehearse the play afternoons,
and evenings I have to study, and Saturday
is crammed jam full.”
</p>
<p>“But she will see you, Kenneth,” said Nan,
who had heard these remarks. “We’re not
going to let her retire from the world in any
such fashion as she proposes; so you come to
see us whenever you like, and my word for it,
Patty will be at home to you.”
</p>
<p>Nan passed on, laughing, and Patty turned
to Kenneth with an appealing glance.
</p>
<p>“You know how it is, don’t you, Ken? I
just have to stick to my work like everything,
or I won’t pass those fearful examinations, and
now that I’ve made up my mind to try for
them, I <i>do</i> want to succeed.”
</p>
<p>“Yes, I know, Patty, and I fully sympathise
with your ambitions. Stick to it, and you’ll
come out all right yet; and if I should call
sometimes when you’re studying, just say you’re
too busy to see me, and it will be all right.”
</p>
<p>“What an old trump you are, Ken. You
always seem to understand.”
</p>
<hr class='tb' />
<p>But as the days passed on, Patty found that
other people did not understand. Her study
hours were continually interrupted. There
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span>
were occasional callers in the afternoon, and
when Nan presented herself at the study door,
and begged so prettily that Patty would come
down just this once, the girl hadn’t the heart
to refuse. Then there was often company in
the evenings, and again Patty would be forced
to break through her rules. Or there were
temptations which she really couldn’t resist,—such
as when her father came home to dinner,
bringing tickets for the opera, or for some especially
fine play.
</p>
<p>Then, Nan had a day each week on which
she received her friends, and on these Thursdays
Patty was supposed also to act as hostess.
Of course this pleasant duty was imperative,
and Patty always enjoyed the little receptions,
though she felt guilty at losing her Thursday
afternoons. Almost invariably, too, some of the
guests accepted Nan’s invitation to remain to
dinner, and that counted out Thursday evening
as well.
</p>
<p>Altogether, poor Patty was at her wits’ end
to find any time to herself. She tried rising very
early in the morning and studying before breakfast,
but she found it difficult to awaken early,
and neither Nan nor her father would allow
her to be called.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span></p>
<p>So she was forced to resort to sitting up late,
and studying after the rest of the household had
retired. As her room was on the third floor,
she had no difficulty in pursuing this plan without
anyone being aware of it, but burning the
midnight oil soon began to tell on her appearance.
</p>
<p>One morning at breakfast, her father said,
“Patty, child, what is the matter with you?
Your eyes look like two holes burnt in a blanket!
You weren’t up late last night?”
</p>
<p>“Not very,” said Patty, dropping her eyes
before her father’s searching gaze.
</p>
<p>Nothing more was said on the subject, but
though Patty hated to do anything secretly, yet
she felt she must continue her night work, as it
was really her only chance.
</p>
<p>So that night as she sat studying until
nearly midnight, her door slowly opened, and
Nan peeped in. She wore a kimono, and her
hair was in a long braid down her back.
</p>
<p>“Patty Fairfield,” she said, “go to bed at
once! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, to
sit up so late when you know your father
doesn’t want you to.”
</p>
<p>“Now, look here, Nan,” said Patty, talking
very seriously, “I <i>have</i> to sit up late like this,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span>
because I can’t get a minute’s time through the
day. You know how it is. There’s always
company, or something going on, and I can’t
wake up early in the morning, and I have to sit
up late at night, even if it does make me tired
and sleepy and good for nothing the next day.
Oh, Nan, instead of hindering and making fun
of me, and bothering me all you can, I think
you might try to help me!”
</p>
<p>Patty threw herself on her knees, and burying
her face in Nan’s lap, burst into a convulsive
flood of tears.
</p>
<p>Nan was thoroughly frightened. She had
never before seen Patty cry, and this was more
than crying. It was almost hysterical.
</p>
<p>Then, like a flash, Nan saw it all. Overwork
and worry had so wrought on Patty’s
nerves that the girl was half sick and wholly
irresponsible for her actions.
</p>
<p>With a ready tact, Nan patted the golden
head, and gently soothed the excited child.
</p>
<p>“Never mind, Patty, darling,” she said,
“and try to forgive me, won’t you? I fear I
have been rather blind to the true state of the
case, but I see more plainly now, and I will help
you, indeed I will. I will see to it that you
shall have your hours for study just as you want
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span>
them, and you shall not be interrupted. Dear
little girl, you’re all tired out, and your nerves
are all on edge, and no wonder. Now, hop
along to bed, and you’ll see that things will go
better after this.”
</p>
<p>As she talked, Nan had gently soothed the
excited girl, and in a quiet, matter-of-fact way,
she helped her prepare for bed, and finally
tucked her up snugly under her down coverlet.
</p>
<p>“Good-night, dearie,” she said; “go to
sleep without a bother on your mind, and remember
that after this Nan will see to it that
you shall have other times to study than the
middle of the night.”
</p>
<p>“Good-night,” said Patty, “and I’m sorry
I made such a baby of myself. But truly, Nan,
I’m bothered to death with those old lessons
and the play and everything.”
</p>
<p>“That’s all right; just go to sleep and dream
of Commencement Day, when all the bothers
will be over, and you’ll get your diploma and
your medal, and a few dozen bouquets besides.”
</p>
<p>And with a final good-night kiss, Nan left
the worn-out girl and returned thoughtfully to
her own room.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='VI_BUSY_DAYS' id='VI_BUSY_DAYS'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span>
<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
<h3>BUSY DAYS</h3>
</div>
<p>Nan was as good as her word. Instead
of trying to persuade Patty not to
study so hard, she did all she could
to keep the study hours free from interruption.
</p>
<p>Many a time when Nan wanted Patty’s company
or assistance, she refrained from telling
her so, and unselfishly left the girl to herself
as much as possible.
</p>
<p>The result of this was that Patty gave herself
up to her books and her school work to
such an extent that she allowed herself almost
no social recreation, and took little or no exercise
beyond her walks to and from school.
</p>
<p>This went on for a time, but Patty was, after
all, of a sensitive and observing nature, and she
soon discovered, by a certain wistful expression
on Nan’s face, or a tone of regret in her voice,
that she was often sacrificing her own convenience
to Patty’s.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span></p>
<p>Patty’s sense of proportion rebelled at this,
and she felt that she must be more obliging to
Nan, who was so truly kind to her.
</p>
<p>And so she endeavoured to cram more duties
into her already full days, and often after a
hard day’s work in school, when she would have
been glad to throw on a comfortable house
gown and rest in her own room, she dressed
herself prettily and went out calling with her
stepmother, or assisted her to receive her own
guests.
</p>
<p>Gay-hearted Nan was not acutely observant,
and it never occurred to her that all this meant
any self-sacrifice on Patty’s part. She accepted
with pleasure each occasion when Patty’s plans
fell in with her own, and the more this was the
case, the more she expected it, so that poor
Patty again found herself bewildered by her
multitude of conflicting duties.
</p>
<p>“I have heard,” she thought to herself one
day, “that duties never clash, but it seems to
me they never do anything else. Now, this
afternoon I’m sure it’s my duty to write my
theme, and yet I promised the girls I’d be at
rehearsal, and then, Nan is so anxious for me
to go shopping with her, that I honestly don’t
know which I ought to do; but I believe I’ll
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>
write my theme, because that does seem the
most important.”
</p>
<p>“Patty,” called Nan’s voice from the hall,
“you’ll go with me this afternoon, won’t you?
I have to decide between those two hats, you
know, and truly I can’t take the responsibility
alone.”
</p>
<p>“Oh, Nan,” said Patty, “it really doesn’t
matter which hat you get, they’re both so
lovely. I’ve seen them, you know, and truly
I think one is just as becoming as the other.
And honest, I’m fearfully busy to-day.”
</p>
<p>“Oh, pshaw, Patty. I’ve let you alone
afternoons for almost a week now, or at least
for two or three days, anyhow. I think you
might go with me to-day.”
</p>
<p>Good-natured Patty always found it hard to
resist coaxing, so with a little sigh she consented,
and gave up her whole afternoon to
Nan.
</p>
<p>That meant sitting up late at night to study,
but this was now getting to be the rule with
Patty, and not the exception.
</p>
<p>So the weeks flew by, and as commencement
day drew nearer, Patty worked harder and her
nerves grew more strained and tense, until a
breakdown of some sort seemed imminent.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></p>
<p>Mr. Fairfield at last awoke to the situation,
and told Patty that she was growing thin and
pale and hollow-eyed.
</p>
<p>“Never mind,” said Patty, looking at her
father with an abstracted air, “I haven’t time
now, Papa, even to discuss the subject. Commencement
day is next week, to-morrow my examinations
begin, and I have full charge of the
costumes for the play, and they’re not nearly
ready yet.”
</p>
<p>“You mustn’t work so hard, Patty,” said
Nan, in her futile way.
</p>
<p>“Nan, if you say that to me again, I’ll throw
something at you! I give you fair warning,
people, that I’m so bothered and worried that
my nerves are all on edge, and my temper is
pretty much the same way. Now, until after
commencement I’ve got to work hard, but if I
just live through that, I’ll be sweet and amiable
again, and will do anything you want me to.”
</p>
<p>Patty was half laughing, but it was plain to
be seen she was very much in earnest.
</p>
<p>Commencement was to occur the first week in
June, and the examinations, which took place
the week before, were like a nightmare to poor
Patty.
</p>
<p>Had she been free to give her undivided attention,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span>
she might have taken them more
calmly. But her mind was so full of the troubles
and responsibilities consequent on the play,
that it was almost impossible to concentrate her
thoughts on the examination work. And yet
the examinations were of far more importance
than the play, for Patty was most anxious to
graduate with honours, and she felt sure that
she knew thoroughly the ground she had been
over in her studies.
</p>
<p>At last examinations were finished, and
though not yet informed of her markings,
Patty felt that on the whole she had been fairly
successful, and Friday night she went home
from school with a heart lighter than it had
been for many weeks.
</p>
<p>“Thank goodness, it’s over!” she cried as
she entered the house, and clasping Nan around
the waist, she waltzed her down the hall in a
mad joy of celebration.
</p>
<p>“Well, I am glad,” said Nan, after she had
recovered her breath; “now you can rest and
get back your rosy cheeks once more.”
</p>
<p>“Not yet,” said Patty gaily; “there is commencement
day and the play yet. They’re fun
compared to examinations, but still they mean
a tremendous lot of work. To-morrow will be
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span>
my busiest day yet, and I’ve bought me an
alarm clock, because I have to get up at five
o’clock in order to get through the day at all.”
</p>
<p>“What nonsense,” said Nan, but Patty only
laughed, and scurried away to dress for dinner.
</p>
<p>When the new alarm clock went off at five
the next morning, Patty awoke with a start,
wondering what in the world had happened.
</p>
<p>Then, as she slowly came to her senses, she
rubbed her sleepy eyes, jumped up quickly, and
began to dress.
</p>
<p>By breakfast time she had accomplished
wonders.
</p>
<p>“I’ve rewritten two songs,” she announced
at the breakfast table, “and sewed for an hour
on Hilda’s fairy costume, and cut out a thousand
gilt stars for the scenery, and made two
hundred paper violets besides!”
</p>
<p>“You are a wonder, Patty,” said Nan, but
Mr. Fairfield looked at his daughter anxiously.
Her eyes were shining with excitement, and
there was a little red spot on either cheek.
</p>
<p>“Be careful, dear,” he said. “It would be
pretty bad if, after getting through your examinations,
you should break down because of this
foolish play.”
</p>
<p>“It isn’t a foolish play, Papa,” said Patty
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span>
gaily; “it’s most wise and sensible. I ought to
know, for I wrote most of it myself, and I’ve
planned all the costumes and helped to make
many of them. One or two, though, we have
to get from a regular costumer, and I have to
go and see about them to-day. Want to go
with me, Nan?”
</p>
<p>“I’d love to go,” said Nan, “but I haven’t
a minute to spare all day long. I’m going to
the photographer’s, and then to Mrs. Stuart’s
luncheon, and after that to a musicale.”
</p>
<p>“Never mind,” said Patty, “it won’t be
much fun. I just have to pick out the costumes
for Joan of Arc and Queen Elizabeth.”
</p>
<p>“Your play seems to include a variety of
characters,” said Mr. Fairfield.
</p>
<p>“Yes, it does,” said Patty, “and most of the
dresses we’ve contrived ourselves; but these two
are beyond us, so we’re going to hire them.
Good-bye, now, people; I must fly over to see
Elise before I go down town.”
</p>
<p>“Who’s going with you, Patty, to the costumer’s?”
asked her father.
</p>
<p>“Miss Sinclair, Papa; one of the teachers in
our school. I am to meet her at the school at
eleven o’clock. We are going to the costume
place, and then to the shops to buy a few things
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span>
for the play. I’ll be home to luncheon, Nan, at
one o’clock.”
</p>
<p>Patty flew away on her numerous errands,
going first to Elise Farrington’s to consult on
some important matters. Hilda and Clementine
were there, and there was so much to be
decided that the time passed by unnoticed, until
Patty exclaimed, “Why, girls, it’s half-past
eleven now, and I was to meet Miss Sinclair at
eleven! Oh, I’m so sorry! I make it a point
never to keep anybody waiting. I don’t know
when I ever missed an engagement before.
Now, you must finish up about the programmes
and things, and I’ll scurry right along. She
must be there waiting for me.”
</p>
<p>The school was only two blocks away, and
Patty covered the ground as rapidly as possible.
But when she reached there Miss Sinclair had
gone. Another teacher who was there told
Patty that Miss Sinclair had waited until
twenty minutes after eleven, and then she had
concluded that she must have mistaken the appointment,
and that probably Patty had meant
she would meet her at the costumer’s. So she
had gone on, leaving word for Patty to follow
her there, if by any chance she should come to
the school looking for her.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span></p>
<p>Patty didn’t know what to do. The costumer’s
shop was a considerable distance away,
and Patty was not in the habit of going around
the city alone. But this seemed to her a special
occasion, and, too, there was no time to hesitate.
</p>
<p>She thought of telephoning to Nan, but
of course she had already gone out. She
couldn’t call her father up from down town,
and it wouldn’t help matters any to ask Elise
or any of the other girls to go with her. So,
having to make a hasty decision, Patty determined
to go alone.
</p>
<p>She knew the address, and though she didn’t
know exactly how to reach it, she felt sure she
could learn by a few enquiries. But, after leaving
the Broadway car, she discovered that she
had to travel quite a distance east, and there
was no cross-town line in that locality. Regretting
the necessity of keeping Miss Sinclair waiting,
Patty hurried on, and after some difficulty
reached the place, only to find that the costumer
had recently moved, and that his new address
was some distance farther up town.
</p>
<p>Patty did not at all like the situation. She
was unfamiliar with this part of the town, she
felt awkward and embarrassed at being there
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span>
alone, and she was extremely sorry not to have
kept her engagement with Miss Sinclair.
</p>
<p>All of this, added to the fact that she was
nervous and overwrought, as well as physically
tired out, rendered her unable to use her really
good judgment and common sense.
</p>
<p>She stood on a street corner, uncertain what
to do next; and her uncertainty was distinctly
manifest on her countenance.
</p>
<p>The driver of a passing hansom called out,
“Cab, Miss?” And this seemed to Patty a
providential solution of her difficulty.
</p>
<p>Recklessly unheeding the fact that she had
never before been in a public cab alone, she
jumped in, after giving the costumer’s number
to the driver. As she rode up town she thought
it over, and concluded that, after all, she had
acted wisely, and that she could explain to her
father how the emergency had really necessitated
this unusual proceeding.
</p>
<p>It was a long ride, and when Patty jumped
out of the cab and asked the driver his price,
she was a little surprised at the large sum he
mentioned.
</p>
<p>However, she thought it was wiser to pay it
without protest than to make herself further
conspicuous by discussing the matter.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></p>
<p>She opened the little wrist-bag which she
carried, only to make the startling discovery
that her purse was missing.
</p>
<p>Even as she realised this, there flashed across
her memory the fact that her father had often
told her that it was a careless way to carry
money, and that she would sooner or later be
relieved of her purse by some clever pickpocket.
</p>
<p>Patty could not be sure whether this was
what had happened in the present instance, or
whether she had left her purse at home. As
she had carried change for carfare in her coat
pocket, she had not expected to need a large
sum of money, and her confused brain refused
to remember whether she had put her purse in
her bag or not.
</p>
<p>She found herself staring at the cabman, who
was looking distrustfully at her.
</p>
<p>“I think I have had my pocket picked,” she
said slowly, “or else I left my purse at home.
I don’t know which.”
</p>
<p>“No, no, Miss, that won’t go down,” said
the cabman, not rudely, but with an uncomfortable
effect of being determined to have his fare.
“Pay up, now, pay up,” he went on, “and
you’ll save yourself trouble in the end.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span></p>
<p>“But I can’t pay you,” said Patty. “I
haven’t any money.”
</p>
<p>“Then you didn’t ought to ride. It ain’t the
first time I’ve knowed a swell young lady to try
to beat her way. Come, Miss, if you don’t
pay me I’ll have to drive you to the station
house.”
</p>
<p>“What!” cried Patty, her face turning
white with anger and mortification.
</p>
<p>“Yes, Miss, that’s the way we do. I s’pose
you know you’ve stole a ride.”
</p>
<p>“Oh, wait a minute,” said Patty; “let me
think.”
</p>
<p>“Think away, Miss; perhaps you can remember
where you’ve hid your money.”
</p>
<p>“But I tell you I haven’t any,” said Patty,
her indignation rising above her fear. “Now,
look here, I have a friend right in here at this
address; let me speak to her, and she’ll come
out and pay you.”
</p>
<p>“No, no, Miss; you can’t ketch me that way.
I’ve heard of them friends before. But I’ll tell
you what,” he added, as Patty stood looking at
him blankly, “I’ll go in there with you, and if
so be’s your friend’s there and pays up the cash,
I’ve nothing more to say.”
</p>
<p>The hansom-driver climbed down from his
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span>
seat and went with Patty into the costumer’s
shop.
</p>
<p>A stolid-looking woman of Italian type met
them and enquired what was wanted.
</p>
<p>“Is Miss Sinclair here?” asked Patty
eagerly.
</p>
<p>“No, Miss, there’s nobody here by way of
a customer.”
</p>
<p>“But hasn’t a lady been here in the last hour,
to look at costumes for a play?”
</p>
<p>“No, Miss, nobody’s been here this whole
morning.”
</p>
<p>“You see you can’t work that game,” said
the cabman. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I guess
you’ll have to come along with me.”
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='VII_A_RESCUE' id='VII_A_RESCUE'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span>
<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
<h3>A RESCUE</h3>
</div>
<p>Perhaps it was partly owing to Patty’s
natural sense of humour, or perhaps her
overwrought nerves made her feel a
little hysterically inclined, but somehow the situation
suddenly struck her as being very funny.
To think that she, Patty Fairfield, was about to
be arrested because she couldn’t pay her cab
fare, truly seemed like a joke.
</p>
<p>But though it seemed like a joke, it wasn’t
one. As Patty hesitated, the cabman grew
more impatient and less respectful.
</p>
<p>Patty’s feeling of amusement passed as
quickly as it came, and she realised that she
must do something at once. Nan was not at
home, her father was too far away, and, curiously,
the next person she thought of as one
who could help her in her trouble was Mr.
Hepworth.
</p>
<p>This thought seemed like an inspiration. Instantly
assuming an air of authority and dignity,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span>
she turned to the angry cabman and said,
“You will be the one to be arrested unless you
behave yourself more properly. Come with me
to the nearest public telephone station. I have
sufficient money with me to pay for a telephone
message, and I will then prove to your satisfaction
that your fare will be immediately paid.”
</p>
<p>Patty afterward wondered how she had the
courage to make this speech, but the fear of
what might happen had been such a shock to
her that it had reacted upon her timidity.
</p>
<p>And with good results, for the cabman at
once became meek and even cringing.
</p>
<p>“There’s a telephone across the street,
Miss,” he said.
</p>
<p>“Very well,” said Patty; “come with me.”
</p>
<p>“There’s a telephone here, Miss,” said the
Italian woman, “if you would like to use it.”
</p>
<p>“That’s better yet,” said Patty; “where’s
the book?”
</p>
<p>Taking the telephone book, Patty quickly
turned the leaves until she found Mr. Hepworth’s
studio number.
</p>
<p>She had an aversion to speaking her own
name before her present hearers, so when Mr.
Hepworth responded she merely said, “Do you
know who I am?”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span></p>
<p>Of course the others listening could not hear
when Mr. Hepworth responded that he
did know her voice, and then called her by
name.
</p>
<p>“Very well,” said Patty, still speaking with
dignity, “I have had the misfortune to lose my
purse, and I am unable to pay my cab fare. Will
you be kind enough to answer the cabman over
this telephone right now, and inform him that
it will be paid if he will drive me to your address,
which you will give him?”
</p>
<p>“Certainly,” replied Mr. Hepworth politely,
though he was really very much amazed
at this message.
</p>
<p>Patty turned to the cabman and said, somewhat
sternly, “Take this receiver and speak to
the gentleman at the other end of the wire.”
</p>
<p>Sheepishly the man took the receiver and
timidly remarked, “Hello.”
</p>
<p>“What is your number?” asked Mr. Hepworth,
and the cabman told him.
</p>
<p>“Where are you?” was the next question,
and the cabman gave the address of the costumer,
which Patty had not remembered to do.
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth’s studio was not very many
blocks away, and he gave the cabman his name
and address, saying, “Bring the young lady
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>
around here at once, as quickly as you can. I
will settle with you on your arrival.”
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth hung up his own receiver,
much puzzled. His first impulse was to go to
the address where Patty was, but as it would
take some time for him to get around there by
any means, he deemed it better that she should
come to him.
</p>
<p>As Patty felt safe, now that she was so soon
to meet Mr. Hepworth, she gave her remaining
change to the Italian woman, who had been
kind, though stolidly disinterested, during the
whole interview.
</p>
<p>The cabman, having given his number to
Mr. Hepworth, felt a responsibility for the
safety of his passenger, and assisted her into
the cab with humble politeness.
</p>
<p>A few moments’ ride brought them to the
large building in which was Mr. Hepworth’s
studio, and that gentleman himself, hatted and
gloved, stood on the curb awaiting them.
</p>
<p>“What’s it all about?” he asked Patty,
making no motion, however, to assist her from
the cab.
</p>
<p>But the reaction after her fright and embarrassment
had made Patty so weak and nervous
that she was on the verge of tears.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span></p>
<p>“I didn’t have any money,” she said; “I
don’t know whether I lost it or not, and if you’ll
please pay him, papa will pay you afterward.”
</p>
<p>“Of course, child; that’s all right,” said Mr.
Hepworth. “Don’t get out,” he added, as
Patty started to do so. “Stay right where you
are, and I’ll take you home.” He gave Patty’s
address to the driver, swung himself into the
cab beside Patty, and off they started.
</p>
<p>“I wasn’t frightened,” said Patty, though
her quivering lip and trembling hands belied
her words; “but when he said he’d arrest me,
I—I didn’t know what to do, and so I telephoned
to you.”
</p>
<p>“Quite right,” said Hepworth, in a casual
tone, which gave no hint of the joy he felt in
being Patty’s protector in such an emergency.
“But I say, child, you look regularly done up.
What have you been doing? Have you had
your luncheon?”
</p>
<p>“No,” said Patty, faintly.
</p>
<p>“And it’s after two o’clock,” said Hepworth,
sympathetically. “You poor infant, I’d
like to take you somewhere for a bite, but I suppose
that wouldn’t do. Well, here’s the only
thing we can do, and it will at least keep you
from fainting away.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span></p>
<p>He signalled the cabman to stop at a drug
shop, where there was a large soda fountain.
Here he ordered for Patty a cup of hot bouillon.
He made her drink it slowly, and was
rejoiced to see that it did her good. She felt
better at once, and when they returned to the
cab she begged Mr. Hepworth to let her go on
home alone, and not take any more of his valuable
time.
</p>
<p>“No, indeed,” said that gentleman; “it may
not be according to the strictest rules of etiquette
for me to be going around with you in a
hansom cab, but it’s infinitely better than for
you to be going around alone. So I’ll just take
charge of you until I can put you safely inside
your father’s house.”
</p>
<p>“And the girls are coming at two o’clock
for a rehearsal!” said Patty. “Oh, I shall be
late.”
</p>
<p>“The girls will wait,” said Mr. Hepworth,
easily, and then during the rest of the ride he
entertained Patty with light, merry conversation.
</p>
<p>He watched her closely, however, and came
to the conclusion that the girl was very nervous,
and excitable to a degree that made him fear
she was on the verge of a mental illness.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span></p>
<p>“When is this play of yours to come off?”
he enquired.
</p>
<p>“Next Thursday night,” said Patty, “if we
can get ready for it, and we must; but oh, there
is so much to do, and now I’ve wasted this
whole morning and haven’t accomplished a
thing, and I don’t know where Miss Sinclair is,
and I didn’t see about the costumes, after all,
and now I’ll be late for rehearsal. Oh, what
shall I do?”
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth had sufficient intuition to
know that if he sympathised with Patty in her
troubles she was ready to break down in a fit of
nervous crying.
</p>
<p>So he said, as if the matter were of no moment,
“Oh, pshaw, those costumes will get
themselves attended to some way or another.
Why, I’ll go down there this afternoon and
hunt them up, if you like. Just tell me what
ones you want.”
</p>
<p>This was help, indeed. Patty well knew that
Mr. Hepworth’s artistic taste could select the
costumes even better than her own, and she
eagerly told him the necessary details.
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth also promised to look after
some other errands that were troubling
Patty’s mind, so that when she finally reached
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span>
home she was calm and self-possessed once
more.
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth quickly settled matters with
the cabman, and then escorted Patty up the
steps to her own front door, where, with a bow
and a few last kindly words, he left her and
walked rapidly away.
</p>
<p>The girls who had gathered for rehearsal
greeted her with a chorus of reproaches for
being so late, but when Patty began to tell her
exciting experiences, the rehearsal was forgotten
in listening to the thrilling tale.
</p>
<p>“Come on, now,” said Patty, a little later,
“we must get to work. Get your places and
begin your lines, while I finish these.”
</p>
<p>Patty had refused to go to luncheon, and the
maid had brought a tray into the library for
her. So, with a sandwich in one hand and a
glass of milk in the other, she directed the rehearsal,
taking her own part therein when the
time came.
</p>
<p>So the days went on, each one becoming more
and more busy as the fateful time drew near.
</p>
<p>Also Patty became more and more nervous.
She had far more to do than any of the other
girls, for they depended on her in every emergency,
referred every decision to her, and
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span>
seemed to expect her to do all the hardest of the
work.
</p>
<p>Moreover, the long strain of overstudy she
had been through had left its effects on her system,
and Patty, though she would not admit it,
and no one else realised it, was in imminent
danger of an attack of nervous prostration.
</p>
<p>The last few days Nan had begun to suspect
this, but as nothing could be done to check
Patty’s mad career, or even to assist her in the
many things she had to do, Nan devoted her
efforts to keeping Patty strengthened and stimulated,
and was constantly appearing to her
with a cup of hot beef tea, or of strong coffee,
or a dose of some highly recommended nerve
tonic.
</p>
<p>Although these produced good temporary
effects, the continued use of these remedies
really aggravated Patty’s condition, and when
Thursday came she was almost a wreck, both
physically and mentally, and Nan was at her
wits’ end to know how to get the girl through
the day.
</p>
<p>At the summons of her alarm clock Patty
rose early in the morning, for there was much
to do by way of final preparation. Before
breakfast she had attended to many left-over
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span>
odds and ends, and when she appeared at the
table she said only an absent-minded “good-morning,”
and then knit her brows as if in deep
and anxious thought.
</p>
<p>Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield looked at each other.
They knew that to say a word to Patty by way
of warning would be likely to precipitate the
breakdown that they feared, so they were careful
to speak very casually and gently.
</p>
<p>“Anything I can do for you to-day, Puss?”
said her father, kindly.
</p>
<p>“No,” said Patty, still frowning; “but I
wish the flowers would come. I have to make
twenty-four garlands before I go over to the
schoolroom, and I must be there by ten o’clock
to look after the building of the platform.”
</p>
<p>“Can’t I make the garlands for you?” asked
Nan.
</p>
<p>“No,” said Patty, “they have to be made a
special way, and you’d only spoil them.”
</p>
<p>“But if you showed me,” urged Nan, patiently.
“If you did two or three, perhaps I
could copy them exactly; at any rate, let me
try.”
</p>
<p>“Very well,” said Patty, dully, “I wish you
could do them, I’m sure.”
</p>
<p>The flowers were delayed, as is not unusual
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span>
in such cases, and it was nearly ten when they
arrived.
</p>
<p>Patty was almost frantic by that time, and
Nan, as she afterward told her husband, had
to “handle her with gloves on.”
</p>
<p>But by dint of tact and patience, Nan succeeded
in persuading Patty, after making two
or three garlands, to leave the rest for her to
do. Although they were of complicated design,
Nan was clever at such things, and could easily
copy Patty’s work. And had she been herself,
Patty would have known this. But so upset
was she that even her common sense seemed
warped.
</p>
<p>When she reached the schoolroom there were
a thousand and one things to see to, and nearly
all of them were going wrong.
</p>
<p>Patty flew from one thing to another,
straightening them out and bringing order from
confusion, and though she held herself well in
hand, the tension was growing tighter, and
there was danger of her losing control of herself
at any minute.
</p>
<p>Hilda Henderson was the only one who realised
this, and, taking Patty aside, she said to
her, quietly, “Look here, girl, I’ll attend to
everything else; there’s not much left that
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span>
needs special attention. And I want you to go
right straight home, take a hot bath, and then
lie down and rest until time to dress for the
afternoon programme. Will you?”
</p>
<p>Patty looked at Hilda with a queer, uncomprehending
gaze. She seemed scarcely to understand
what was being said to her.
</p>
<p>“Yes,” she said, but as she turned she half
stumbled, and would have fallen to the floor if
Hilda had not caught her strongly by the arm.
</p>
<p>“Brace up,” she said, and her voice was stern
because she was thoroughly frightened. “Patty
Fairfield, don’t you dare to collapse now! If
you do, I’ll—I don’t know <i>what</i> I’ll do to you!
Come on, now, I’ll go home with you.”
</p>
<p>Hilda was really afraid to let Patty go alone,
so hastily donning her hat and coat she went
with her to her very door.
</p>
<p>“Take this girl,” she said to Nan, “and put
her to bed, and don’t let her see anybody or say
anything until the programme begins this afternoon.
I’ll look after everything that isn’t finished,
if you’ll just keep her quiet.”
</p>
<p>Nan was thoroughly alarmed, but she only
said, “All right, Hilda, I’ll take care of her,
and thank you very much for bringing her
home.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span></p>
<p>Patty sank down on a couch in a limp heap,
but her eyes were big and bright as she looked
at Hilda, saying, “See that the stars are put on
the gilt wands, and the green bay leaves on the
white ones. Lorraine’s spangled skirt is in
Miss Oliphant’s room, and please be sure,—” Patty
didn’t finish this sentence, but lay back
among the cushions, exhausted.
</p>
<p>“Run along, Hilda,” said Nan; “do the
best you can with the stars and things, and I’ll
see to it that Patty’s all right by afternoon.”
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='VIII_COMMENCEMENT_DAY' id='VIII_COMMENCEMENT_DAY'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span>
<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
<h3>COMMENCEMENT DAY</h3>
</div>
<p>Nan was a born nurse, and, moreover,
she had sufficient common sense and
tact to know how to deal with nervous
exhaustion. Instead of discussing the situation
she said, cheerily, “Now everything will
be all right. Hilda will look after the stars and
wands, and you can have quite a little time to
rest before you go back to the schoolroom.
Don’t try to go up to your room now, just stay
right where you are, and I’ll bring you a cup
of hot milk, which is just what you need.”
</p>
<p>Patty nestled among the cushions which Nan
patted and tucked around her, and after taking
the hot milk felt much better.
</p>
<p>“I must get up now, Nan,” she pleaded,
from the couch where she lay, “I have so many
things to attend to.”
</p>
<p>“Patty,” said Nan, looking at her steadily,
“do you want to go through with the commencement
exercises this afternoon and the play to-night
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span>
successfully, or do you want to collapse
on the stage and faint right before all the
audience?”
</p>
<p>“I won’t do any such foolish thing,” said
Patty, indignantly.
</p>
<p>“You will,” said Nan, “unless you obey me
implicitly, and do exactly as I tell you.”
</p>
<p>Nan’s manner more than her words compelled
Patty’s obedience, and with a sigh, the
tired girl closed her eyes, saying, “All right,
Nan, have your own way, I’ll be good.”
</p>
<p>“That’s a good child,” said Nan, soothingly,
“and now first we’ll go right up to your own
room.”
</p>
<p>Then Nan helped Patty into a soft dressing
gown, made her lie down upon her bed, and
threw a light afghan over her.
</p>
<p>Then sitting beside her, Nan talked a little
on unimportant matters and then began to sing
softly. In less than half an hour Patty was
sound asleep, and Nan breathed a sigh of relief
at finding her efforts had been successful.
</p>
<p>But there was not much time to spare, for
the commencement exercises began at three
o’clock.
</p>
<p>So at two o’clock Patty found herself gently
awakened, to see Nan at her bedside, arranging
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>
a dainty tray of luncheon which a maid had
brought in.
</p>
<p>“Here you are, girlie,” said the cheery voice,
“sit up now, and see what we have for you
here.”
</p>
<p>Patty awoke a little bewildered, but soon
gathered her scattered senses, and viewed with
pleasure the broiled chicken and crisp salad before
her.
</p>
<p>Exhaustion had made her hungry, and while
she ate, Nan busied herself in getting out the
pretty costume that Patty was to wear at commencement.
</p>
<p>But the sight of the white organdie frock with
its fluffy ruffles and soft laces brought back
Patty’s apprehensions.
</p>
<p>“Oh, Nan,” she cried in dismay, “I’m not
nearly ready for commencement! I haven’t
copied my poem yet, and I haven’t had a minute
to practice reading it for the last two weeks.
What shall I do?”
</p>
<p>“That’s all attended to,” said Nan,—“the
copying, I mean. You’ve been so busy doing
other people’s work, that of course you haven’t
had time to attend to your own, so I gave your
poem to your father, and he had it typewritten
for you, and here it is all ready. Now, while
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span>
you dress, I’ll read it to you, and that will bring
it back to your memory.”
</p>
<p>“Nan, you are a dear,” cried Patty, jumping
up and flying across the room to give her stepmother
a hearty caress. “Whatever would I do
without you? I’m all right now, and if you’ll
just elocute that thing, while I array myself in
purple and fine linen, I’m sure it will all come
back to me.”
</p>
<p>So Nan read Patty’s jolly little class poem
line by line, and Patty repeated it after her as
she proceeded with her toilette.
</p>
<p>She was ready before the appointed time, and
the carriage was at the door, but Nan would
not let her go.
</p>
<p>“No, my lady,” she said, “you don’t stir out
of this house until the very last minute. If you
get over there ahead of time, you’ll begin to
make somebody a new costume, or build a
throne for the fairy queen, or some foolish trick
like that. Now you sit right straight down in
that chair and read your poem over slowly,
while I whip into my own clothes, and then we’ll
go along together. Fred can’t come until a
little later anyway. Sit still now, and don’t
wriggle around and spoil that pretty frock.”
</p>
<p>Patty obeyed like a docile child, and Nan
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span>
flew away to don her own pretty gown for the
occasion.
</p>
<p>When she returned in a soft grey crêpe de
chine, with a big grey hat and feathers, she was
such a pretty picture that Patty involuntarily
exclaimed in admiration.
</p>
<p>“I’m glad you like it,” said Nan, “I want to
look my best so as to do you credit, and in return
I want you to do your best so as to do me
credit.”
</p>
<p>“I will,” said Patty, earnestly, “I truly will.
You’ve been awfully good to me, Nan, and but
for you I don’t know what I should have done.”
</p>
<p>Away they went, and when they reached the
schoolroom, and Patty went to join her classmates,
while Nan took her place in the audience,
she said as a parting injunction, “Now mind,
Patty, this afternoon you’re to attend strictly to
your own part in the programme. Don’t go
around helping other people with their parts,
because this isn’t the time for that. You’ll have
all you can do to manage Patty Fairfield.”
</p>
<p>Patty laughed and promised, and ran away
to the schoolroom.
</p>
<p>The moment she entered, half a dozen girls
ran to her with questions about various details,
and Nan’s warning was entirely forgotten. Indeed
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span>
had it not been for Hilda’s intervention,
Patty would have gone to work at a piece of
unfinished scenery.
</p>
<p>“Drop that hammer!” cried Hilda, as Patty
was about to nail some branches of paper roses
on to a wobbly green arbour. “Patty Fairfield,
are you crazy? The idea of attempting carpenter
work with that delicate frock on! Do
for pity’s sake keep yourself decent until after
you’ve read your poem at least!”
</p>
<p>Patty looked at Hilda with that same peculiar
vacantness in her glance which she had
shown in the morning, and though Hilda said
nothing, she was exceedingly anxious and kept
a sharp watch on Patty’s movements.
</p>
<p>But it was then time for the girls to march
onto the platform, and as Patty seemed almost
like herself, though unusually quiet, Hilda
hoped it was all right.
</p>
<p>The exercises were such as are found on most
commencement programmes, and included class
history, class prophecy, class song and all of the
usual contributions to a commencement programme.
</p>
<p>Patty’s class poem was near the end of the
list, and Nan was glad, for she felt it would give
the girl more time to regain her poise. Mr.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>
Fairfield had arrived, and both he and Nan
waited anxiously for Patty’s turn to come.
</p>
<p>When it did come, Patty proved herself quite
equal to the occasion.
</p>
<p>Her poem was merry and clever, and she read
it with an entire absence of self-consciousness,
and an apparent enjoyment of its fun. She
looked very sweet and pretty in her dainty white
dress, and she stood so gracefully and seemed
so calm and composed, that only those who
knew her best noticed the feverish brightness
of her eyes and a certain tenseness of the muscles
of her hands.
</p>
<p>But this was not unobserved by one in the
audience. Mr. Hepworth, though seated far
back, noted every symptom of Patty’s nervousness,
however little it might be apparent to
others.
</p>
<p>Although she went through her ordeal successfully,
he knew how much greater would be
the excitement and responsibility of the evening’s
performance and he wished he could help
her in some way.
</p>
<p>But there seemed to be nothing he could do,
and though he had sent her a beautiful basket
of roses, it was but one floral gift among so
many that he doubted whether Patty even knew
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span>
that he sent it; and he also doubted if she would
have cared especially if she had known it.
</p>
<p>Like most of the graduates, Patty received
quantities of floral tributes. As the ushers
came again and again with clusters or baskets
of flowers, the audience heartily applauded, and
Patty, though embarrassed a little, preserved a
pretty dignity, and showed a happy enjoyment
of it all.
</p>
<p>As soon as the diplomas were awarded, and
Patty had her cherished roll tied with its blue
ribbon, Nan told Mr. Fairfield that it was imperative
that Patty should be made to go
straight home.
</p>
<p>“If she stays there,” said Nan, “she’ll get
excited and exhausted, and be good for nothing
to-night. I gave her some stimulants this noon,
although she didn’t know it, but the effects are
wearing off and a reaction will soon set in. She
must come home with us at once.”
</p>
<p>“You are right, Mrs. Fairfield,” said Mr.
Hepworth, who had crossed the room and
joined them just in time to hear Nan’s last
words. “Patty is holding herself together by
sheer nervous force, and she needs care if she
is to keep up through the evening.”
</p>
<p>“That is certainly true,” said Nan. “Kenneth,”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span>
she added, turning to young Harper, who
stood near by, “you have a good deal of influence
with Patty. Go and get her, won’t you?
Make her come at once.”
</p>
<p>“All right,” said Kenneth, and he was off
in a moment, while Mr. Hepworth looked after
him, secretly wishing that the errand might have
been entrusted to him.
</p>
<p>But Kenneth found his task no easy one. Although
Patty willingly consented to his request,
and even started toward the dressing-room to
get her wraps, she paused so many times to
speak to different ones, or her progress was
stopped by anxious-looking girls who wanted
her help or advice, that Kenneth almost despaired
of getting her away.
</p>
<p>“Can’t you make her come, Hilda?” he said.
</p>
<p>“I’ll try,” said Hilda, but when she tried,
Patty only said, “Yes, Hilda, in just a minute.
I want to coach Mary a little in her part, and I
want to show Hester where to stand in the third
act.”
</p>
<p>“Never mind,” said Hilda, impatiently.
“Let her stand on the roof, if she wants to, but
for goodness’ sake go on home. Your people
are waiting for you.”
</p>
<p>Again Patty looked at her with that queer
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>
vacant gaze, and then Lorraine Hart stepped
forward and took matters in her own hands.
</p>
<p>“March!” she said, as she grasped Patty’s
arm, and steered her toward the dressing-room.
“Halt!” she said after they reached it, and
then while Patty stood still, seemingly dazed,
Lorraine put her cloak about her, threw her
scarf over her head, wheeled her about, and
marched her back to where Kenneth stood
waiting.
</p>
<p>“Take her quick,” she said. “Take her right
to the carriage; don’t let her stop to speak to
anybody.”
</p>
<p>So Kenneth grasped Patty’s arm firmly and
led her through the crowd of girls, out of the
door, and down the walk to the carriage. Ordinarily,
Patty would have resented this summary
treatment, but still in a half-dazed way
she meekly went where she was led.
</p>
<p>Once in the carriage, Nan sat beside her and
Mr. Fairfield opposite, and they started for
home. No reference was made to Patty herself,
but the others talked lightly and pleasantly
of the afternoon performance.
</p>
<p>On reaching home, Nan put Patty to bed at
once, and telephoned for the Doctor.
</p>
<p>But when Dr. Martin came, Nan met him
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span>
downstairs, and told him all about the case.
They then decided that the Doctor should not
see Patty, as to realise the fact that she was in
need of medical attendance might prove a
serious shock.
</p>
<p>“And really, Doctor,” said Nan, “if the
girl shouldn’t be allowed at least to try to go
through with the play this evening, I wouldn’t
like to answer for the consequences.”
</p>
<p>“I understand,” said Dr. Martin, “and
though I think that with the aid of certain prescriptions
I shall give you, she can probably get
through the evening, it would be far better if
she did not attempt it.”
</p>
<p>“I know it Doctor,” said Nan, “and with
some girls it might be possible to persuade them
to give it up, but I can’t help feeling that if we
even advised Patty not to go to-night, she would
fly into violent hysterics.”
</p>
<p>“Very likely,” said Dr. Martin, “and I
think, Mrs. Fairfield, you are right in your
diagnosis. If you will give her these drops exactly
as I have directed, I think she will brace
up sufficiently to go through her part all right.”
</p>
<p>Nan thanked the Doctor, and hurried back
to Patty’s room to look after her charge. She
found Patty lying quietly, but in a state of mental
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>
excitement. When Nan came in, she began
to talk rapidly.
</p>
<p>“It’s all right, Nan, dear,” she said. “I’m
not ill a bit. Please let me get up now, and
dress so I can go around to the schoolroom a
little bit early. There are two or three things
I must look after, and then the play will go off
all right.”
</p>
<p>“Very well,” said Nan, humouring her, “if
you will just take this medicine it will brace you
up for the evening, and you can go through
with the play as successfully as you did your part
this afternoon.”
</p>
<p>Patty agreed, and took the drops the Doctor
had left, without a murmur.
</p>
<p>Soon their soothing effect became apparent,
and Patty’s nervous enthusiasm quieted down
to such an extent that she seemed in no haste
to go.
</p>
<p>She ate her dinner slowly, and dawdled over
her dressing, until Nan again became alarmed
lest the medicine had been too powerful.
</p>
<p>Poor Nan really had a hard time of it. Patty
was not a tractable patient, and Nan was frequently
at her wits’ end to know just how to
manage her.
</p>
<p>But at last she was ready, and they all
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>
started for the school again. Although Patty’s
own people, and a few of her intimate girl
friends knew of her overwrought state, most of
the class and even the teachers had no idea how
near to a nervous breakdown she was. For her
demeanour was much as usual, and though she
would have moments of dazed bewilderment,
much of the time she was unusually alert and
she flew about attending to certain last details
in an efficient and clear-headed manner.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='IX_THE_PLAY' id='IX_THE_PLAY'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span>
<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
<h3>THE PLAY</h3>
</div>
<p>The play went through beautifully.
Every girl did her part wonderfully
well, but Patty surpassed them all.
Buoyed up by excitement, she played her part
with a dash and sprightliness that surprised even
the girls who had seen her at rehearsal. She
was roguish, merry and tragic by turns, and she
sang her solos with a dramatic effect that
brought down the house. She looked unusually
pretty, which was partly the effect of her intense
excitement, and though Nan and Mr. Fairfield
could not help admiring and applauding with
the rest, they were very anxious and really
alarmed, lest she might not be able to keep up
to these emotional heights until the end of the
play.
</p>
<p>Without speaking his thoughts to anyone
else, Mr. Hepworth, too, was very much concerned
for Patty’s welfare. He realised the
danger she was in, and noted every evidence of
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span>
her artificial strength and merriment. Seeing
Dr. Martin in a seat near the back of the room,
he quietly rose and went and sat beside the old
gentleman.
</p>
<p>“Doctor,” he said, “I can’t help fearing that
a collapse of some sort will follow Miss Fairfield’s
performance.”
</p>
<p>“I am sure of it,” said the Doctor, looking
gravely at Mr. Hepworth.
</p>
<p>“Then don’t you think perhaps it would
be wise for you to go around behind the
scenes, presently, and be there in case of
emergency.”
</p>
<p>“I will gladly do so,” said Dr. Martin, “if
Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield authorise it.”
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth looked at his programme,
and then he looked at Patty. He knew the play
pretty thoroughly, and he knew that she was
making one of the final speeches. He saw too,
that she had nearly reached the limit of her
endurance, and he said, “Dr. Martin, I wish
you would go on my authority. The Fairfields
are sitting in the front part of the house, and it
would be difficult to speak to them about it
without creating a commotion. And besides, I
think there is no time to be lost; this is almost
the end of the play, and in my judgment, Miss
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span>
Fairfield is pretty nearly at the end of her self-composure.”
</p>
<p>Dr. Martin gave the younger man a searching
glance, and then said, “You are right, Mr.
Hepworth. It may be advisable that I should
be there when Miss Fairfield comes off the stage.
I will go at once. Will you come with me?”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Hepworth, and the two
men quietly left the room, and hastened around
the building to the side entrance.
</p>
<p>As Mr. Hepworth had assisted with the
scenery for the play, and had been present at
one or two rehearsals, he knew his way about,
and guided Dr. Martin through the corridors
to the room where the girls were gathered, waiting
their cue to go on the stage for the final
tableau and chorus.
</p>
<p>Lorraine and Hilda looked at each other
comprehendingly, as the two men appeared, but
the other girls wondered at this apparent intrusion.
</p>
<p>Then as the time came, they all went on the
stage, and Dr. Martin and Mr. Hepworth,
watching from the side, saw them form the
pretty final tableau.
</p>
<p>Patty in a spangled dress and tinsel crown,
waving a gilt wand, stood on a high pedestal.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span>
Around her, on lower pedestals, and on the
floor, were the rest of the fairy maidens in their
glittering costumes.
</p>
<p>The last notes of the chorus rang out, and
amidst a burst of applause the curtain fell. The
applause continued so strongly that the curtain
was immediately raised again, and the delighted
audience viewed once more the pretty scene.
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth was nearer the stage than Dr.
Martin, in fact, in his anxiety, he was almost
edging on to it, and while the curtain was up,
and the audience was applauding, and the orchestra
was playing, and the calcium lights were
flashing their vari-coloured rays, his intense
watchfulness noticed a slight shudder pass over
Patty’s form, then she swayed slightly, and her
eyes closed.
</p>
<p>In a flash Mr. Hepworth had himself rung
the bell that meant the drop of the curtain, and
as the curtain came down, he sprang forward
among the bewildered girls, and reached the
tall pedestal just in time to catch Patty as she
tottered and fell.
</p>
<p>“She has only fainted,” he said, as he carried
her off the stage, “please don’t crowd
around, she will be all right in a moment.”
</p>
<p>He carried her to the dressing-room and
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span>
gently laid her on a couch. Dr. Martin followed
closely, and Mr. Hepworth left Patty in
his charge.
</p>
<p>“You, Miss Hamilton, go in there,” he said
to Lorraine, at the door, “and see if you can help
Dr. Martin. I will speak to the Fairfields
and see that the carriage is ready. I don’t think
the audience knows anything about it, and there
need be no fuss or commotion.”
</p>
<p>Quick-witted Hilda grasped the situation,
and kept the crowd of anxious girls out of the
dressing-room, while Dr. Martin administered
restoratives to Patty.
</p>
<p>But it was not so easy to overcome the faintness
that had seized upon her. When at last she
did open her eyes, it was only to close them
again in another period of exhaustion.
</p>
<p>However, this seemed to encourage Dr.
Martin.
</p>
<p>“It’s better than I feared,” he said. “She
isn’t delirious. There is no threat of brain
fever. She will soon revive now, and we can
safely take her home.”
</p>
<p>And so when the Doctor declared that she
might now be moved, Mr. Fairfield supported
her on one side, and Kenneth on the other as
they took her to the carriage.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></p>
<p>“Get in, Mrs. Fairfield,” said Kenneth, after
Patty was safely seated by her father, “and you
too, Dr. Martin. I’ll jump up on the box with
the driver. Perhaps I can help you at the
house.”
</p>
<p>So away they went, without a word or a
thought for poor Mr. Hepworth, to whose
watchfulness was really due the fact of Dr.
Martin’s opportune assistance. And too, if Mr.
Hepworth had not seen the first signs of Patty’s
loss of consciousness, her fall from the high
pedestal might have proved a serious accident.
</p>
<p>Although Dr. Martin told the family afterward
of Mr. Hepworth’s kind thoughtfulness,
it went unnoted at the time. But of this, Mr.
Hepworth himself was rather glad than otherwise.
His affection for Patty was such that
he did not wish the girl to feel that she owed
him gratitude, and he preferred to have no
claim of the sort upon her.
</p>
<p>When the party reached the Fairfield house,
Patty had revived enough to talk rationally,
but she was very weak, and seemed to have lost
all enthusiasm and even interest in the occasion.
</p>
<p>“It’s all over, isn’t it?” she asked of her
father in a helpless, pathetic little voice.
</p>
<p>“Yes, Puss,” said Mr. Fairfield, cheerily,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span>
“it’s all over, and it was a perfect success. Now
don’t bother your head about it any more, but
just get rested, and get a good sleep, and then
we’ll talk it over.”
</p>
<p>Patty was quite willing not to discuss the subject,
and with Nan’s assistance she was soon in
bed and sound asleep.
</p>
<p>Dr. Martin stood watching her. “I don’t
know,” he said to Nan, “whether this sleep will
last or not. If it does all will be well, but she
may wake up soon, and become nervous and
hysterical. In that case give her these drops,
which will have a speedy effect. I will be around
again early to-morrow morning.”
</p>
<p>But the doctor’s fears were not realised.
Patty slept deeply all through the night, and
had not waked when the doctor came in the
morning.
</p>
<p>“Don’t waken her,” he said, as he looked
at the sleeping girl. “She’s all right. There’s
no fear of nervous prostration now. The stress
is over, and her good constitution and healthy
nature are reasserting themselves and will conquer.
She isn’t of a nervous temperament, and
she is simply exhausted from overwork. Don’t
waken her, let her sleep it out.”
</p>
<p>And so Patty slept until afternoon, and then
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span>
awoke, feeling more like her old self than she
had for many days.
</p>
<p>“Nan,” she called, and Nan came flying in
from the next room.
</p>
<p>“I’m awful hungry,” said Patty, “and I am
pretty tired, but the play is over, isn’t it, Nan?
I can’t seem to remember about last night.”
</p>
<p>“Yes, it’s over, Patsy, and everything is all
right, and you haven’t a thing to do but get
rested. Will you have your breakfast now, or
your luncheon?—because you’ve really skipped
both.”
</p>
<p>“Then I’ll have them both,” said Patty with
decision. “I’m hungry enough to eat a house.”
</p>
<p>Later, Patty insisted on dressing and going
downstairs for dinner, declaring she felt perfectly
well, but the exertion tired her more than
she cared to admit, and when Dr. Martin came
in the evening, she questioned him directly.
</p>
<p>“I’m not really ill, am I, Dr. Martin? I’ll
be all right in a day or two, won’t I? It’s so
silly to get tired just walking downstairs.”
</p>
<p>“Don’t be alarmed,” said the old doctor,
“you will be all right in a day or two. By day
after to-morrow you can walk downstairs, or
run down, if you like, without feeling tired
at all.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span></p>
<p>“Then that’s all right,” said Patty. “I suppose
I did do too much with my school work,
and the play, and everything, but I couldn’t
seem to help it, and if I get over it in a week
I’ll be satisfied. In fact, I shan’t mind a bit,
lounging around and resting for a few days.”
</p>
<p>“That’s just the thing for you to do,” agreed
Dr. Martin, “and I’ll give you another prescription.
After a week or two of rest, you
need recreation. You must get out of the city,
and go somewhere in the country. Not seashore
or the mountains just yet, but away into
the country, where you’ll have plenty of fresh
air and nothing to do. You mustn’t look at a
book of any sort or description for a month or
two at least. Will you promise me that?”
</p>
<p>“With great pleasure,” said Patty, gaily, “I
don’t think I shall care to see a book all summer
long; not a schoolbook anyway. I suppose
I may read storybooks.”
</p>
<p>“Not at present,” said the doctor. “Let
alone books of all sorts for a couple of months,
and after that I’ll see about it. What you want
is plenty of fresh air and outdoor exercise.
Then you’ll get back the roses in your cheeks,
and add a few pounds of flesh to your attenuated
frame.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span></p>
<p>“Your prescription sounds attractive,” said
Patty, “but where shall I go?”
</p>
<p>“We’ll arrange all that,” said Mr. Fairfield.
“I think myself that all you need is recreation
and rest, with a fair proportion of each.”
</p>
<p>“So do I,” said Patty; “I don’t want to go
to an old farmhouse, where there isn’t a thing
to do but walk in the orchard; I want to go
where I’ll have some fun.”
</p>
<p>“Go ahead,” said the doctor, “fun won’t
hurt you any as long as it’s outdoor sports or
merry society. But don’t get up any plays, or
any such foolishness, where fun is only a mistaken
name for hard work.”
</p>
<p>Patty promised this, and Dr. Martin went
away without any doubts as to the speedy and
entire recovery of his patient.
</p>
<p>Mr. Fairfield and Nan quite agreed with the
doctor’s opinion that Patty ought to go away for
a rest and a pleasant vacation. The next thing
was to decide where she should go. It was out
of the question, of course, to consider any
strange place for her to go alone, and as Mr.
Fairfield could not begin his vacation until July,
and Nan was not willing to leave him, there
seemed to be no one to accompany Patty.
</p>
<p>The only places, therefore, that Mr. Fairfield
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span>
could think of, were for her to go to Vernondale
and visit the Elliotts, or down to the
Hurly-Burly where the Barlows had already
gone for their summer season.
</p>
<p>But neither of these plans suited Patty at all,
for she said that Vernondale would be no rest
and not much fun. She was fond of her Elliott
cousins, but she felt sure that they would treat
her as a semi-invalid and coddle her until she
went frantic.
</p>
<p>The Hurly-Burly, she said, would be just the
opposite. They would have no consideration
down there for the fact that she wanted a rest,
but would make her jog about hither and thither,
taking long tramps and going on tiresome picnics
whether she wanted to or not.
</p>
<p>So neither of these plans seemed just the
thing, and Nan’s proposal that Patty go to
Philadelphia and spend June with Mrs. Allen
wasn’t quite what Patty wanted. Indeed, Patty
did not know herself exactly what she wanted,
which was pretty good proof that she was not
so far from the borders of Nervous Land as they
had believed.
</p>
<p>And so when Elise came over one afternoon,
and brought with her an invitation for Patty,
that young woman showed no hesitation in announcing
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>
at once that it was exactly what she
wanted. The invitation was nothing more nor
less than to go on a long motor-car trip with the
Farringtons.
</p>
<p>“It will be perfectly splendid,” said Elise,
“if you’ll only go, Patty.”
</p>
<p>“Go!” said Patty, “I should think I would
go! It’s perfectly splendid of you to invite
me. Who are going?”
</p>
<p>“Just father and mother, and Roger and
myself,” said Elise, “and you will make five.
Roger can run the car, or father can, either, for
that matter, so we won’t take a man, and father
has had a new top put on his big touring-car
and we can pile any amount of luggage up on
it, so you can take all the frocks you want to.
We’ll stop at places here and there, you know,
to visit, and of course, we’ll always stop for
meals and to stay over night.”
</p>
<p>“But perhaps they wouldn’t want me,” said
Patty, “where you go to visit.”
</p>
<p>“Nonsense, of course they will. Why, I
wrote to Bertha Warner that I wanted to bring
you, and she said she’d love to have you come.”
</p>
<p>“How could she say so? she doesn’t know me.”
</p>
<p>“Well, I told her all about you, and she’s
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span>
fully prepared to love you as I do. Oh, do you
suppose your people will let you go?”
</p>
<p>“Of course they will. They’ll be perfectly
delighted to have me go.”
</p>
<p>Patty was right. When she told her father
and Nan about the delightful invitation, they
were almost as pleased as she was herself, and
Mr. Fairfield gave ready permission.
</p>
<p>The projected trip entirely fulfilled Dr.
Martin’s requisites of fresh air, out-of-door exercise,
and a good time, and when he was told
of the plan he also expressed his entire approval.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='X_A_MOTOR_TRIP' id='X_A_MOTOR_TRIP'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span>
<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
<h3>A MOTOR TRIP</h3>
</div>
<p>Preparations began at once. It was
now the first of June and they were to
start on the sixth.
</p>
<p>There were delightful shopping excursions
for the replenishing of Patty’s wardrobe, and
Nan gladly assisted Patty to get everything in
order for her trip.
</p>
<p>At last the day of starting came, and a more
beautiful day could not be imagined. It was
typical June weather, and the sun shone pleasantly,
but not too warmly, from a clear blue sky.
</p>
<p>Patty’s only experience in motoring had been
her trip to Atlantic City, but that was only a
short ride compared to the contemplated tour
of the Farringtons.
</p>
<p>Mr. Farrington’s huge car seemed to be furnished
with everything necessary for a long
journey. Although they would usually take
their meals at hotels in the towns through
which they passed, Mrs. Farrington explained
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span>
they might occasionally wish to have tea or even
luncheon on the road, so the car was provided
with both tea-basket and luncheon-kit. The
novelty of this paraphernalia was fascinating to
Patty, and she peeped into the well-appointed
baskets with chuckles of delight at the anticipated
pleasure of making use of them.
</p>
<p>Patty’s trunk was put up on top among the
others, her hand-luggage was stowed away in
its place, and with affectionate good-byes to Nan
and her father, she took her seat in the tonneau
between Mrs. Farrington and Elise, and away
they started.
</p>
<p>Mr. Farrington and Roger, who sat in front,
were in the gayest of spirits and everything was
promising for a happy journey.
</p>
<p>As they threaded their way through the
crowded city streets, Patty rejoiced to think that
they would soon be out in the open country
where they would have wide roads with comparatively
few travellers.
</p>
<p>“What is the name of your machine, Mr.
Farrington?” she asked, as they whizzed along.
</p>
<p>“I may as well own up,” that gentleman answered,
laughing. “I have named it ‘The
Fact.’”
</p>
<p>“‘The Fact,’” repeated Patty, “what a
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span>
funny name. Why do you call it that? You
must have some reason.”
</p>
<p>“I have,” said Mr. Farrington, in a tone of
mock despair. “I call it The Fact because it is
a stubborn thing.”
</p>
<p>Patty laughed merrily at this. “I’m afraid
it’s a libel,” she said, “I’m sure I don’t see anything
stubborn about the way it acts. It’s going
beautifully.”
</p>
<p>“Yes, it is,” said Mr. Farrington, “and I
hope it will continue to do so, but I may as well
warn you that it has a most reprehensible habit
of stopping now and then, and utterly refusing
to proceed. And this, without any apparent reason,
except sheer stubbornness.”
</p>
<p>“How do you finally induce it to move?”
asked Patty, interested by this trait.
</p>
<p>“We don’t induce it,” said Elise, “we just
sit and wait, and when the old thing gets ready
to move, it just draws a long breath and humps
itself up and down a few times, and turns a
couple of somersaults, and moves on.”
</p>
<p>“What an exciting experience,” said Patty.
“When do you think it will begin any such performance
as that?”
</p>
<p>“You can’t tell,” said Mr. Farrington. “It’s
as uncertain as the weather.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span></p>
<p>“More so,” said Roger. “The weather
sometimes gives you warning of its intentions,
but The Fact just selects a moment when you’re
the farthest possible distance from civilisation
or help of any kind, and then it just sits down
and refuses to get up.”
</p>
<p>“Well, we won’t cross that bridge until we
come to it,” said Mr. Farrington. “Sometimes
we run a week without any such mishap.”
</p>
<p>And truly there seemed no danger at present,
for the big car drove ahead as smoothly and
easily as a railroad train, and Patty lay back
in the luxurious tonneau, feeling that at last
she could get rested and have a good time both
at once.
</p>
<p>The wonderful exhilaration of the swift motion
through the soft June air, the delightful
sensation of the breeze which was caused by
the motion of the car, and the ever-changing
natural panorama on either side of her, gave
Patty the sensation of having suddenly been
transported to some other country than that in
which she had been living the past few weeks.
</p>
<p>And so pleasantly friendly were her relations
with Mrs. Farrington and Elise that it did not
seem necessary to make remarks for the sake
of keeping up the conversation. There was
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span>
much pleasant chat and discussion as they
passed points of interest or diverting scenes,
but then again there were occasional pauses
when they all gave themselves up to the enjoyment
of the delightful motion of the car.
</p>
<p>Patty began to realise what was meant by
the phrase, “automobile elation.” She seemed
to feel an uplifting of her spirit, and a strange
thrill of exquisite happiness, while all trace of
nervousness or petty worry was brushed away
like a cobweb.
</p>
<p>Her lungs seemed filled with pure air, and
further, she had a whimsical sense that she was
breathing the very blue of the sky.
</p>
<p>She said this to Mrs. Farrington, and that
lady smiled as she answered, “That’s right,
Patty; if you feel that way, you are a true motorist.
Not everyone does. There are some who
only look upon a motor-car as a machine to
transport them from one place to another, but
to me it is the very fairyland of motion.”
</p>
<p>Patty’s eyes shone in sympathy with this idea,
but Roger turned around laughingly, and said,
“You’d better be careful how you breathe the
blue sky, Patty, for there’s a little cloud over
there that may stick in your throat.”
</p>
<p>Patty looked at the tiny white cloud, and responded,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span>
“If you go much faster, Roger, I’m
afraid we’ll fly right up there, and run over that
poor little cloud.”
</p>
<p>“Let’s do it,” said Roger. “There’s no
fine for running over a cloud, is there, Dad?”
</p>
<p>As he spoke, Roger put on a higher speed,
and then they flew so fast that Patty began to be
almost frightened. But her fear did not last
long, for in a moment the great car gave a kind
of a groan, and then a snort, and then a wheeze,
and stopped; not suddenly, but with a provokingly
determined slowness, that seemed to imply
no intention of moving on again. After a
moment the great wheels ceased to revolve, and
the car stood stubbornly still, while Mr. Farrington
and Roger looked at each other, with
faces of comical dismay.
</p>
<p>“We’re in for it!” said Mr. Farrington, in
a resigned tone.
</p>
<p>“Then we must get out for it!” said Roger,
as he jumped down from his seat, and opened
the tool-chest.
</p>
<p>Mrs. Farrington groaned. “Now, you see,
Patty,” she said, “how the car lives up to its
name. I hoped this wouldn’t happen so soon.”
</p>
<p>“What is the matter?” asked Patty. “Why
doesn’t it go?”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span></p>
<p>“Patty,” said Elise, looking at her solemnly,
“I see you have yet to learn the first lesson of
automobile etiquette. Never, my child, whatever
happens, <i>never</i> inquire why a car doesn’t
go! That is something that nobody ever knows,
and they wouldn’t tell if they did know, and, besides,
if they did know, they’d know wrong.”
</p>
<p>Mrs. Farrington laughed at Elise’s coherent
explanation, but she admitted that it was pretty
nearly right, after all. Meanwhile, Mr. Farrington
and Roger, with various queer-looking
tools, were tinkering at the car here and there,
and though they did not seem to be doing any
good, yet they were evidently not discouraged,
for they were whistling gaily, and now and then
made jesting remarks about the hopelessness of
ever moving on again.
</p>
<p>“I think there’s water in the tubes,” said
Roger, “but Dad thinks it’s a choked carburetter.
So we’re going to doctor for both.”
</p>
<p>“Very well,” said Mrs. Farrington, calmly;
“as there’s no special scenery to look at about
here, I think I shall take a little nap. You girls
can get out and stroll around, if you like.”
</p>
<p>Mrs. Farrington settled herself comfortably
in her corner, and closed her eyes. Elise and
Patty did get out, and walked up and down the
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span>
road a little, and then sat down on the bank by
the roadside to chat. For the twentieth time
or more they talked over all the details of commencement
day, and congratulated themselves
anew on the success of their entertainment.
</p>
<p>At last, after they had waited nearly two
hours, Roger declared that there was no earthly
reason why they shouldn’t start if they cared to.
</p>
<p>It was part of Roger’s fun, always to pretend
that he could go on at any moment if he
desired to, and when kept waiting by the misconduct
of the car, he always made believe that
he delayed the trip solely for his own pleasure.
</p>
<p>Likewise, if under such trying circumstances
as they had just passed through, he heard other
automobiles or wagons coming, he would drop
his tools, lean idly against the car, with his
hands in his pockets, whistling, and apparently
waiting there at his own pleasure.
</p>
<p>All this amused Patty very much, and she
began, as Elise said, to learn the rules of automobile
etiquette. It was not difficult with the
Farringtons, for they all had a good sense of
humour, and were always more inclined to laugh
than cry over spilled milk.
</p>
<p>When Roger made this announcement, Elise
jumped up, and crying, “Come on, Patty,” ran
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span>
back to the car and jumped in, purposely waking
her mother as she did so.
</p>
<p>Mrs. Farrington placidly took in the situation,
and remarked that she was in no hurry,
but if they cared to go on she was quite ready.
</p>
<p>And so with laughter and gay chatter they
started on again, and the car ran as smoothly
as it had before the halt.
</p>
<p>But it was nearly sundown, and there were
many miles yet to travel before they reached the
hotel where they had expected to dine and stay
over night.
</p>
<p>“Shall we go on, Mother?” said Mr. Farrington.
“Can you wait until nine o’clock or
thereabouts for your dinner? Or shall we stop
at some farmhouse, and so keep ourselves from
starvation?”
</p>
<p>“I would rather go on,” said Mrs. Farrington,
“if the girls don’t mind.”
</p>
<p>The girls didn’t mind, and so they plunged
ahead while the sun set and the darkness fell.
There was no moon, and a slight cloudiness hid
the stars. Roger lighted the lamps, but they
cast such weird shadows that they seemed to
make the darkness blacker than ever.
</p>
<p>Patty was not exactly afraid, but the experience
was so new to her that she felt she would
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span>
be glad when they reached the hotel. Perhaps
Mr. Farrington discerned this, for he took especial
pains to entertain his young guest, and
divert her mind from thoughts of possible
danger. So he beguiled the way with jokes and
funny stories, until Patty forgot her anxiety, and
the first thing she knew they were rolling up the
driveway to the hotel.
</p>
<p>Floods of light streamed from the windows
and the great doors, and strains of music could
be heard from within.
</p>
<p>“Thank goodness we’re here!” said Mrs.
Farrington. “Jump out, girlies, and let us seek
shelter at once.”
</p>
<p>Roger remained in the car to take it away to
the garage, and Mr. Farrington accompanied
the ladies into the hotel.
</p>
<p>Much as she had enjoyed the ride, Patty felt
glad to get into the warm, lighted house, and
very soon the party were shown to their rooms.
</p>
<p>Patty and Elise shared a large room whose
twin beds were covered with spreads of gaily-flowered
chintz. Curtains of the same material
hung at the windows, and draped the dressing-table.
</p>
<p>“What a pleasant, homelike room,” said
Patty, as she looked about.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></p>
<p>“Yes,” said Elise, “this is a nice old country
hotel. We’ve been here before. Hurry, Patty,
let’s dress for dinner quickly.”
</p>
<p>But Patty was surveying herself in the long
pierglass that hung between two windows.
</p>
<p>Nan had selected her motoring outfit, and
she had donned it that morning so hastily that
she hadn’t really had an opportunity to observe
herself. But now, as she looked at the rather
shapeless figure in the long pongee coat, and
the queer shirred hood of the same material, and
as she noted the voluminous chiffon veil with
its funny little front window of mica, she concluded
that she looked more like a goblin in a
fairy play than a human being.
</p>
<p>“Do stop admiring your new clothes, Patty,
and get dressed,” said Elise, who was on her
knees before an open suitcase, shaking out
Patty’s skirt and bodice. “Get off those togs,
and get ready to put these on. This is a sweet
little Dresden silk; I didn’t know you had it.
Is it new?”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Patty, “Nan bought it for me.
She said it wouldn’t take much room in the suitcase,
and would be useful for a dinner dress.”
</p>
<p>“It’s lovely,” said Elise. “Now get into it,
and I’ll hook you up.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></p>
<p>So Patty got out of what she called her goblin
clothes, but was still giggling at them as she
hung them away in the wardrobe.
</p>
<p>Less than half an hour later the two girls,
spick and span in their dainty dresses, and with
fresh white bows on their hair, went together
down the staircase. They found Mr. and Mrs.
Farrington awaiting them, and soon Roger appeared,
and they went to the dining-room for a
late dinner.
</p>
<p>Then Patty discovered what automobile hunger
was.
</p>
<p>“I’m simply ravenous,” she declared, “but
I didn’t know it until this minute.”
</p>
<p>“That’s part of the experience,” said Mrs.
Farrington, “the appetite caused by motoring
is the largest known variety, and that’s why I
wanted to push on here, where we could get
a good dinner, instead of taking our chances at
some farmhouse.”
</p>
<p>They were the only guests in the dining-room
at that late hour, and so they made a merry meal
of it, and after dinner went back to the large
parlours, to sit for a while listening to the music.
But they did not tarry long, for as Patty discovered,
another consequence of a motor ride
was a strong inclination to go to bed early.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XI_DICK_PHELPS' id='XI_DICK_PHELPS'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>
<h3>DICK PHELPS</h3>
</div>
<p>The travellers did not rise early the next
morning, and ten o’clock found them
still seated at the breakfast table.
</p>
<p>“I do hate to hurry,” said Mrs. Farrington,
comfortably sipping her coffee. “So many people
think that an automobile tour means getting
up early, and hustling off at daybreak.”
</p>
<p>“I’m glad those are your sentiments,” said
Patty, “for I quite agree with you. I’ve done
enough hustling the last month or two, and I’m
delighted to take things more slowly for a
change.”
</p>
<p>“I think,” said Mr. Farrington, “that as it
is such a pleasant day, it would be a good plan
to take some luncheon with us and picnic by the
roadside. We could then get to the Warners’in time for dinner, though perhaps a little late.”
</p>
<p>“Lovely!” cried Elise, “I’m perfectly crazy
to use that new luncheon-kit. It’s great, Patty!
It has the cunningest alcohol stove, and every
little contraption you could possibly think of.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span></p>
<p>“I know it,” said Patty. “I peeped inside
yesterday, and the array of forks and spoons
and plates and bottles was perfectly fascinating.”
</p>
<p>“Very well,” said Mrs. Farrington to her
husband, “ask them to fill the kit properly, and
I think myself we will enjoy a little picnic.”
</p>
<p>So Mr. Farrington went to see about the provisions,
and Roger to get the car ready, while
the ladies sauntered about the piazza.
</p>
<p>The route of their journey lay along the shore
of Long Island Sound, and the hotel where they
had stayed over night was not far from New
Haven, and quite near the water’s edge.
</p>
<p>Patty was very fond of the water, and gazed
with delight at the sparkling Sound, dotted with
white steamers and various sorts of fishing-craft.
For her part she would have been glad to stay
longer at this hotel, but the Warners, whom they
were going to visit, were expecting them to
dinner that evening. These people, Patty knew,
lived in a beautiful country place called “Pine
Branches,” which was near Springfield in Massachusetts.
Patty did not know the Warners,
but Elise had assured her that they were delightful
people and were prepared to give her a
warm welcome.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span></p>
<p>When the car came to the door the ladies
were all ready to continue the journey. They
had again donned their queer-looking motor-clothes,
and though Patty was beginning to get
used to their appearance, they still seemed to
her like a trio of brownies or other queer beings
as they took their seats in the car.
</p>
<p>Roger climbed to his place, touched a lever
by his side, and swung the car down the drive
with an air of what seemed to Patty justifiable
pride. The freshly cleaned car was so daintily
spick and span, the day was so perfect, and the
merry-hearted passengers in such a gay and festive
mood, that there was indeed reason for a
feeling of general satisfaction.
</p>
<p>Away they went at a rapid speed, which Patty
thought must be beyond the allowed limit, but
Roger assured her to the contrary.
</p>
<p>For many miles their course lay along a fine
road which followed the shore of the Sound.
This delighted Patty, as she was still able to
gaze out over the blue water, and at the same
time enjoy the wonderful motion of the car.
</p>
<p>But soon their course changed and they
turned inland, on the road to Hartford. Patty
was surprised at Roger’s knowledge of the way,
but the young man was well provided with road
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>
maps and guidebooks, of which he had made
careful study.
</p>
<p>“How beautifully the car goes,” said Patty.
“It doesn’t make the least fuss, even on the upgrades.”
</p>
<p>“You must learn the vocabulary, Patty,”
said Roger. “When a machine goes smoothly
as The Fact is doing now, the proper expression
is that it runs sweetly.”
</p>
<p>“Sweetly!” exclaimed Patty. “How silly.
It sounds like a gushing girl.”
</p>
<p>“That doesn’t matter,” said Roger, serenely.
“If you go on motor trips, you must learn to
talk motor-jargon.”
</p>
<p>“All right,” said Patty, “I’m willing to
learn, and I do think the way this car goes it is
just too sweet for anything!”
</p>
<p>They all laughed at this, but their gaiety was
short-lived, for just then there was a peculiar
crunching sound that seemed to mean disaster,
judging from the expressions of dismay on the
faces of the Farrington family.
</p>
<p>“What is it?” asked Patty, forgetting that
she had been told never to ask questions on such
occasions.
</p>
<p>“Patty,” said Roger, making a comical face
at her, “my countenance now presents an expression
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>
typical of disgust, irritation, and impatience.
I now wave my right hand thus, which
is a Delsarte gesture expressing exasperation
with a trace of anger. I next give voice to my
sentiments, merely to remark in my usual calm
and disinterested way, that a belt has broken
and the mending thereof will consume a portion
of time, the length of which may be estimated
only after it has elapsed.”
</p>
<p>Patty laughed heartily at this harangue, but
gathered from Roger’s nonsense the interesting
fact that an accident had occurred, and that a
delay was inevitable. Nobody seemed especially
surprised. Indeed, they took it quite as a matter
of course, and Mrs. Farrington opened a
new magazine which she had brought with her,
and calmly settled herself to read.
</p>
<p>But Elise said, “Well, I’m already starving
with hunger, and I think we may as well open
that kit of provisions, and have our picnic right
here, while Roger is mending the belt.”
</p>
<p>“Elise,” said her father jestingly, “you sometimes
show signs of almost human intelligence!
Your plan is a positive inspiration, for I confess
that I myself feel the gnawings of hunger.
Let us eat the hard-boiled eggs and ham sandwiches
that we have with us, and then if we like,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span>
we can stop at Hartford this afternoon for a
more satisfying lunch, as I begin to think we will
not reach Pine Branches until sometime later
than their usual dinner hour.”
</p>
<p>They all agreed to this plan, and Roger, with
his peculiar sensitiveness toward being discovered
with his car at a disadvantage, said seriously:
“I see a racing machine coming, and
when it passes us I hope you people will act as
if we had stopped here only to lunch, and not
because this ridiculous belt chose to break itself
just now.”
</p>
<p>This trait of Roger’s amused Patty very
much, but she was quite ready to humour her
friend, and agreed to do her part.
</p>
<p>She looked where Roger had indicated, and
though she could see what looked like a black
speck on a distant road, she wondered how
Roger could know it was a racing machine that
was approaching. However, she realised that
there were many details of motoring of which
she had as yet no idea, and she turned her attention
to helping the others spread out the
luncheon. The beautifully furnished basket was
a delight to Patty. She was amazed to see how
cleverly a large amount of paraphernalia could
be stowed in a small amount of space. The kit
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span>
was arranged for six persons, and contained
half-dozens of knives, forks, spoons, and even
egg-spoons; also plates, cups, napkins, and everything
with which to serve a comfortable meal.
There were sandwich-boxes, salad-boxes, butter-jars,
tea and coffee cans, salt, pepper, and all
necessary condiments. Then there was the
alcohol stove, with its water-kettle and chafing
dish. At the sight of all these things, which
seemed to come out of the kit as out of a magician’s
hat, Patty’s eyes danced.
</p>
<p>“Let me cook,” she begged, and Mrs. Farrington
and Elise were only too glad to be
relieved of this duty.
</p>
<p>There wasn’t much cooking to do, as sandwiches,
cold meats, salad, and sweets were lavishly
provided, but Patty made tea, and then
boiled a few eggs just for the fun of doing it.
</p>
<p>Preparations for the picnic were scarcely
under way when the racing-car that Roger had
seen in the distance came near them. There was
a whirring sound as it approached, and Patty
glanced up from her alcohol stove to see that it
was occupied by only one man. He was slowing
speed, and evidently intended to stop. Long
before he had reached them, Roger had hidden
his tools, and though his work on the broken
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span>
belt was not completed, he busied himself with
the luncheon preparations, as if that was his
sole thought.
</p>
<p>The racing-car stopped and the man who was
driving it got out.
</p>
<p>At sight of him Patty with difficulty restrained
her laughter, for though their own garb
was queer, it was rational compared to the appearance
of this newcomer.
</p>
<p>A racing suit is, with perhaps the exception of
a diver’s costume, the most absurd-looking dress
a man can get into. The stranger’s suit was of
black rubber, tightly strapped at the wrists and
ankles, but it was his head-gear which gave the
man his weird and uncanny effect. It was a
combination of mask, goggles, hood, earflaps,
and neckshield which was so arranged with
hinges that the noseguard and mouthpiece
worked independently of each other.
</p>
<p>At any rate, it seemed to Patty the funniest
show she had ever seen, and she couldn’t help
laughing. The man didn’t seem to mind, however,
and after he had bowed silently for a
moment or two with great enjoyment of their
mystification, he pulled off his astonishing head-gear
and disclosed his features.
</p>
<p>“Dick Phelps!” exclaimed Mr. Farrington,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span>
“why, how are you, old man? I’m right down
glad to see you!”
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps was a friend of the Farrington
family, and quite naturally they invited him to
lunch with them.
</p>
<p>“Indeed I will,” said the visitor, “for I
started at daybreak, and I’ve had nothing to
eat since. I can’t tarry long though, as I must
make New York City to-night.”
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps was a good-looking young man
of about thirty years, and so pleased was he with
Patty’s efforts in the cooking line, that he ate
all the eggs she had boiled, and drank nearly
all the tea, besides making serious inroads on
the viands they had brought with them.
</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter if I do eat up all your
food,” said the young man, pleasantly, “for you
can stop anywhere and get more, but I mustn’t
stop again until I reach the city, and I probably
won’t have a chance to eat then, as I must push
on to Long Island.”
</p>
<p>The Farringtons were quite willing to refresh
the stranger within their gates, and they all enjoyed
the merry little picnic.
</p>
<p>“Where are you bound?” asked Mr. Phelps
as he prepared to continue his way.
</p>
<p>“To Pine Branches first,” said Mrs. Farrington,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span>
“the country house of a friend. It’s near
Springfield, and from there we shall make short
trips, and later on, continue our way in some
other direction,—which way we haven’t yet
decided.”
</p>
<p>“Good enough,” said Mr. Phelps, “then I’ll
probably see you again. I am often a guest at
Pine Branches myself, and shall hope to run
across you.”
</p>
<p>As every motorist is necessarily interested
in his friend’s car, Mr. Phelps naturally turned
to inspect the Farrington machine before getting
into his own.
</p>
<p>And so, to Roger’s chagrin, he was obliged
to admit that he was even then under the necessity
of mending a broken belt.
</p>
<p>But to Roger’s relief, Mr. Phelps took almost
no notice of it, merely saying that a detail defect
was liable to happen to anybody. He looked
over the vital parts of the motor, and complimented
Roger on its fine condition. This pleased
the boy greatly, and resuming his work after
Mr. Phelps’ departure, he patched up the belt,
while the others repacked the kit, and soon they
started off again.
</p>
<p>Swiftly and smoothly they ran along over the
beautiful roads, occasionally meeting other touring-parties
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span>
apparently as happy as they were
themselves. Sometimes they exchanged merry
greetings as they passed, for all motorists belong
to one great, though unorganised, fraternity.
</p>
<p>“I’ve already discovered that trifling accidents
are a part of the performance, and I’ve
also discovered that they’re easily remedied and
soon over, and that when they are over they are
quickly forgotten and it seems impossible that
they should ever occur again.”
</p>
<p>“You’ve sized it up pretty fairly, Patty,” said
Roger, “and though I never before thought it
out for myself, I agree with you that that is the
true way to look at it.”
</p>
<p>On they went, leaving the miles behind them,
and as Roger was anxious to make up for lost
time he went at a slightly higher speed than he
would have otherwise done. He slowed down,
however, when they passed horses or when they
went through towns or villages.
</p>
<p>Patty was greatly interested in the many small
villages through which they rode, as nearly
every one showed quaint or humorous scenes.
Dogs would come out and bark at them, children
would scream after them, and even the
grown-up citizens of the hamlets would stare at
them as if they had never seen a motor-car before,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span>
though Patty reasoned that surely many
of them must have travelled that same road.
</p>
<p>“When you meet another village, Roger,”
she said, “do go through it more slowly, for
I like to see the funny people.”
</p>
<p>“Very well,” said Roger, “you may stop and
get a drink at the town pump, if you like.”
</p>
<p>“No, thank you,” said Patty, “I don’t want
to get out, but I would like to stop a minute or
two in one of them.”
</p>
<p>Roger would willingly have granted Patty’s
wish, but he was deprived of this privilege by
the car itself. Just as they neared a small settlement
known as Huntley’s Corners, another
ominous sound from the machine gave warning.
</p>
<p>“That belt again!” exclaimed Roger.
“Patty, the probabilities are that you’ll have all
the time you want to study up this village, and
even learn the life history of the oldest inhabitant.”
</p>
<p>“What an annoying belt it is,” said Mrs.
Farrington in her pleasant way. “Don’t you
think, Roger dear, that you had better get a
new belt and be done with it?”
</p>
<p>“That’s just what I do think, Mother, but
somehow I can’t persuade myself that they keep
them for sale at this corner grocery.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span></p>
<p>The car had reached the only store in the
settlement, and stopped almost in front of it.
</p>
<p>Patty was beginning to learn the different
kinds of stops that a motor-car can make, and
she felt pretty sure that this was not a momentary
pause, but a stop that threatened a considerable
delay.
</p>
<p>She said as much to Roger, and he replied,
“Patty, you’re an apt pupil. The Fact has
paused here not for a day, but for all time, unless
something pretty marvellous can be done
in the way of belt mending!”
</p>
<p>Patty began to think that accidents were of
somewhat frequent occurrence, but Elise said,
cheerfully, “This seems to be an off day. Why,
sometimes we run sweetly for a week, without a
word from the belt. Don’t we, Roger?”
</p>
<p>“Yes, indeed,” said Roger, “but Patty may
as well get used to the seamy side of motoring,
and learn to like it.”
</p>
<p>“I do like it,” declared Patty, “and if we
are going to take up our abode here for the
present, I’m going out to explore the town.”
</p>
<p>She jumped lightly from the car, and, accompanied
by Elise, strolled down the main,
and, indeed, the only street of the village.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XII_OLD_CHINA' id='XII_OLD_CHINA'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
<h3>OLD CHINA</h3>
</div>
<p>A few doors away from the country store
in front of which the automobile stood,
the girls saw a quaint old house, with a
few toys and candies displayed for sale in a
front window.
</p>
<p>“Isn’t it funny?” said Elise, looking in at
the unattractive collection. “See that old-fashioned
doll, and just look at that funny jumping-jack!”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Patty, whose quick eye had
caught sight of something more interesting,
“but just look at that plate of peppermint
candies. The plate, I mean. Why, Elise, it’s
a Millennium plate!”
</p>
<p>“What’s that?” said Elise, looking blank.
</p>
<p>“A Millennium plate? Why, Elise, it’s about
the most valuable bit of old china there is in
this country! Why, Nan would go raving crazy
over that. I’d rather take it home to her than
any present I could buy in the city shop. Elise,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span>
do you suppose whoever keeps this little store
would sell that plate?”
</p>
<p>“No harm in trying,” said Elise, “there’s
plenty of time, for it will take Roger half an
hour to fix that belt. Let’s go in and ask
her.”
</p>
<p>“No, no,” said Patty, “that isn’t the way.
Wait a minute. I’ve been china hunting before,
with Nan, and with other people, and you
mustn’t go about it like that. We must go in
as if we were going to buy some of her other
goods, and then we’ll work around to the plate
by degrees. You buy something else, Elise, and
leave the plate part to me.”
</p>
<p>“Very well, I think I’ll buy that rag doll,
though I’m sure I don’t know what I’ll ever do
with it. No self-respecting child would accept
it as a gift.”
</p>
<p>“Well, buy something,” said Patty, as they
went in.
</p>
<p>The opening of the door caused a big bell to
jingle, and this apparently called an old woman
in from the back room. She was not very tidy,
but she was a good-natured body, and smiled
pleasantly at the two girls.
</p>
<p>“What is it, young ladies?” she asked, “can
I sell you anything to-day?”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span></p>
<p>“Yes,” said Elise, gravely, “I was passing
your window, and I noticed a doll there,—that
one with the blue gingham dress. How much is
it, please?”
</p>
<p>“That one,” said the old lady, “is fifty cents.
Seems sorter high, I know, but that ’ere doll
was made by a blind girl, that lives a piece up
the road; and though the sewin’ ain’t very good,
it’s a nine-days’ wonder that she can do it at all.
And them dolls is her only support, and land
knows she don’t sell hardly any!”
</p>
<p>“I’ll give you a dollar for it,” said Elise,
impulsively, for her generous heart was touched.
“Have you any more of them?”
</p>
<p>“No,” said the woman, in some amazement.
“Malviny, she don’t make many, ’cause they
don’t sell very rapid. But be you goin’ her way?
She might have one to home, purty nigh
finished.”
</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” said Elise, “where does
she live?”
</p>
<p>“Straight along, on the main road. You
can’t miss it, an old yaller house, with the back
burnt off.”
</p>
<p>It was Patty’s turn now, and she said she
would buy the peppermint candies that were in
the window.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></p>
<p>“All of ’em?” asked the storekeeper, in
surprise.
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Patty, “all of them,” and as
the old woman lifted the plate in from the
window, Patty added, “And if you care to part
with it, I’ll buy the plate too.”
</p>
<p>“Land, Miss, that ’ere old plate ain’t no
good; it’s got a crack in it, but if so be’s you admire
that pattern, I’ve got another in the keeping-room
that’s just like it, only ’tain’t cracked.
’Tain’t even chipped.”
</p>
<p>“Would you care to part with them both?”
asked Patty, remembering that this phrase was
the preferred formula of all china hunters.
</p>
<p>“Laws, yes, Miss, if you care to pay for ’em.
Of course, I can’t sell ’em for nothin’, for there’s
sometimes ladies as comes here, as has a fancy
to them old things. But these two plates is
so humbly, that I didn’t have the face to show
’em to anybody as was lookin’ for anteeks.”
</p>
<p>Patty’s sense of honesty would not allow her
to ignore the old woman’s mistake.
</p>
<p>“They may seem homely to you,” she said,
“but I think it only right to tell you that these
plates are probably the most valuable of any
you have ever owned.”
</p>
<p>“Well, for the land o’ goodness, ef you ain’t
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span>
honest! ’Tain’t many as would speak up like
that! Jest come in the back room, and look at
the other plate.”
</p>
<p>The girls followed the old woman as she
raised a calico curtain of a flowered pattern, and
let them through into the “keeping-room.”
</p>
<p>“There,” she said with some pride as she
took down a plate from the high mantel.
“There, you can see for yourself, there ain’t
no chip or crack into it.”
</p>
<p>Sure enough, Patty held in her hand a perfect
specimen of the Millennium plate, so highly
prized by collectors, and there was also the one
she had seen in the window, which though
slightly cracked, was still in fair condition.
</p>
<p>“How much do you want for them?” asked
Patty.
</p>
<p>The old woman hesitated. It was not difficult
to see that, although she wanted to get as
high a price as possible for her plates, yet she
did not want to ask so much that Patty would
refuse to take them.
</p>
<p>“You tell me,” she said, insinuatingly,
“’bout what you think them plates is worth.”
</p>
<p>“No,” said Patty, firmly, “I never buy things
that way. You tell me your price, and then I
will buy them or not as I choose.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span></p>
<p>“Well,” said the old woman, slowly, “the
last lady that I sold plates to, she give me fifty
cents apiece for three of ’em, and though I
think they was purtier than these here, yet you
tell me these is more vallyble, and so,” here the
old woman made a great show of firmness, “and
so my price for these plates is a dollar apiece.”
</p>
<p>As soon as she had said it, she looked at
Patty in alarm, greatly fearing that she would
not pay so much.
</p>
<p>But Patty replied, “I will give you five dollars
for the two,—because I know that is nearer
their value than the price you set.”
</p>
<p>“Bless your good heart, and your purty face,
Miss,” said the old woman, as the tears came
into her eyes. “I’m that obliged to you! I’ll
send the money straight to my son John. He’s
in the hospital, poor chap, and he needs it sore.”
</p>
<p>Elise had rarely been brought in contact with
poverty and want, and her generous heart was
touched at once. She emptied her little purse
out upon the table, and was rejoiced to discover
that it contained something over ten dollars.
</p>
<p>“Please accept that,” she cried, “to buy
things for your son, or for yourself, as you
choose.”
</p>
<div class='figcenter'>
<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a>
<img src='images/illus2.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
<p class='caption' style='text-align:center;'>
“‘There, you can see for yourself, there ain’t no chip or<br />
crack into it’”
<br />
</p>
</div>
<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></div>
<p>The old woman was quite overcome at this
kindness, and was endeavouring brokenly to
express her thanks, when the bell on the shop
door jangled loudly.
</p>
<p>Patty being nearest to the calico curtain drew
it aside, to find Roger in the little shop, looking
very breathless and worried.
</p>
<p>“Well, of all things,” he exclaimed. “You
girls have given us a scare. We’ve hunted high
and low through the whole of this metropolis.
And if it hadn’t been that a little girl said she
saw you come in here, I suppose we’d now be
dragging the brook. Come along, quick, we’re
all ready to start.”
</p>
<p>“How could you get that belt mended so
quickly?” asked Elise.
</p>
<p>“Never mind that,” said Roger, “just come
along.”
</p>
<p>“Wait a minute,” said Patty, hastily gathering
up her precious plates, while the old woman
provided some newspaper wrapping.
</p>
<p>Roger hurried the two girls back to the
motor-car, saying as they went, “We’re not in
any hurry to start, but Mother thinks you’re
drowned, and I want to prove to her that she
is mistaken.”
</p>
<p>The sight of the car caused Patty to go off
into peals of laughter.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></p>
<p>In front of the beautiful machine was an old
farm wagon, and in front of that were four
horses. On the seat of the wagon sat a nonchalant-looking
farmer who seemed to take little
interest in the proceedings.
</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t ask what’s the matter for anything,”
said Patty, looking at Roger, demurely,
“but I suppose I am safe in assuming that you
have those horses there merely because you
think they look well.”
</p>
<p>“That’s it,” said Roger. “Nothing adds
to the good effect of a motor-car like having a
few fine horses attached to it. Jump in, girls.”
</p>
<p>The girls jumped in, and the caravan started.
It was at a decidedly different rate of speed from
the way they had travelled before. But Patty
soon learned that Roger had found it impossible
to fix the belt without going to a repair shop,
and there was none nearer than Hartford. With
some difficulty, and at considerable expense, he
had persuaded the gruff old farmer to tow them
over the intervening ten miles.
</p>
<p>Patty would have supposed that this would
greatly humiliate the proud and sensitive boy,
but, to her surprise, Roger treated the affair as
a good joke. He leaned back in his seat, apparently
pleased with his enforced idleness, and
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span>
chatted merrily as they slowly crawled along.
Occasionally he would plead with the old farmer
to urge his horses a trifle faster, and even hint
at certain rewards if they should reach Hartford
in a given time. But the grumpy old man
was proof against coaxing or even bribing, and
they jogged along, almost at a snail’s pace.
</p>
<p>Perceiving that there was no way of improving
the situation, Roger gave up trying, and
turning partly around in his seat, proceeded to
entertain the girls to the best of his ability.
</p>
<p>Patty hadn’t known before what a jolly, good-natured
boy Elise’s brother was, and she came
to the conclusion that he had a good sense of
proportion, to be able to take things so easily,
and to keep his temper under such trying circumstances.
</p>
<p>Only once did the surly old farmer address
himself to his employers. Turning around to
face the occupants of the motor-car he bawled
out:
</p>
<p>“Whar do ye wanter go in Hartford?”
</p>
<p>“To the largest repair shop for automobiles,”
answered Roger.
</p>
<p>“Thought ye wanted ter go ter the State Insane
Asylum,” was the response to this, and a
suppressed chuckle could be heard, as the old
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span>
man again turned his attention to his not over-speedy
steeds.
</p>
<p>Though not a very subtle jest, this greatly
amused the motor party, and soon they entered
the outskirts of the beautiful city of Hartford.
</p>
<p>Mr. Farrington looked at his watch. “I
suppose,” he said, “it will take the best part
of an hour to have the machine attended to,
for there are two or three little matters which
I want to have put in order, besides the belt.
I will stay and look after it, and the rest of you
can take your choice of two proceedings. One
is, to go to a hotel, rest and freshen yourselves
up a bit, and have some luncheon. The other
is, to take a carriage and drive around the city.
Hartford is a beautiful place, and if Patty has
never seen it, I am sure she will enjoy it.”
</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter to me,” said Mrs. Farrington,
“which we do; but I’m quite sure I
don’t care to eat anything more just at present.
We had our picnic not so very long ago, you
know.”
</p>
<p>“I know,” said Mr. Farrington, “but consider
this. When we start from here with the
car in good order, I hope to run straight through
to Warner’s. But at best we cannot reach there
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span>
before ten o’clock to-night. So it’s really advisable
that you should fortify yourselves
against the long ride, for I should hate to delay
matters further by stopping again for dinner.”
</p>
<p>“Ten o’clock!” exclaimed Mrs. Farrington,
“why, they expect us by seven, at latest. It is
too bad to keep them waiting like that. Can’t
we telephone to them?”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Farrington, “and I will
attend to that while I am waiting for the car
to be fixed. Now what would you people
rather do?”
</p>
<p>Both the girls declared they could not eat
another luncheon at present, and they thought
it would be delightful to drive around and see
the town.
</p>
<p>So Mrs. Farrington settled the matter by deciding
to take the drive. And then she said,
“We can leave the luncheon-kit at some hotel
to be filled, then we can pick it up again, and
take it along with us, and when we get hungry
we can eat a light supper in the car.”
</p>
<p>“Great head, Mother!” cried Roger, “you
are truly a genius!”
</p>
<p>An open landau was engaged, and Roger and
the three ladies started for the drive. They
spent a delightful hour viewing the points of
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span>
interest in the city, which the obliging driver
pointed out to them.
</p>
<p>They smiled when they came to the Insane
Asylum, and though the grounds looked attractive,
they concluded not to go there to stay,
even though their old farmer friend had seemed
to think it an appropriate place for them.
</p>
<p>“It’s a strange thing,” said Roger, “that
people who do not ride in automobiles always
think that people who do are crazy. I’m sure
I don’t know why.”
</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t blame anybody for thinking Mr.
Phelps crazy, if they had seen him this morning,”
said Patty.
</p>
<p>“That’s only because you’re not accustomed
to seeing men in racing costume,” said Roger.
“After you’ve seen a few more rigs like that,
you won’t think anything of them.”
</p>
<p>“That’s so,” said Patty thoughtfully, “and
if I had never before seen a farmer in the queer
overalls, and big straw hat, that our old country
gentleman wore, I daresay I should have thought
his appearance quite as crazy as that of Mr.
Phelps.”
</p>
<p>“You have a logical mind, Patty,” said Mrs.
Farrington, “and on the whole I think you are
right.”
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XIII_A_STORMY_RIDE' id='XIII_A_STORMY_RIDE'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
<h3>A STORMY RIDE</h3>
</div>
<p>The time passed quickly and soon the
drive was over, and after calling for
their well-filled luncheon-basket, the
quartet returned to the repair shop to find Mr.
Farrington all ready to start.
</p>
<p>So into the car they all bundled, and Patty
learned that each fresh start during a motor
journey revives the same feeling of delight that
is felt at the beginning of the trip.
</p>
<p>She settled herself in her place with a little
sigh of contentment, and remarked that she
had already begun to feel at home in The Fact,
and she only wished it was early morning, and
they were starting for the day, instead of but
for a few hours.
</p>
<p>“Don’t you worry, my lady,” said Roger,
as he laid his hands lightly on the steering-wheel,
“you’ve a good many solid hours of travel
ahead of you right now. It’s four o’clock, and
if we reach Pine Branches by ten, I will pat this
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span>
old car fondly on the head, before I put her to
bed.”
</p>
<p>The next few hours were perhaps the pleasantest
they had yet spent. In June, from four
to seven is a delightful time, and as the roads
were perfect, and the car went along without
the slightest jar or jolt, and without even a hint
of an accident of any sort, there was really not
a flaw to mar their pleasure.
</p>
<p>As the sun set, and the twilight began to close
around them, Patty thought she had never seen
anything more beautiful than the landscape
spread out before them. A broad white road
stretched ahead like a ribbon. On either side
were sometimes green fields, darkening in the
fading light, and sometimes small groves of
trees, which stood black against the sky.
</p>
<p>Then the sunset’s colours faded, the trees
grew blacker and denser, and their shadows
ceased to fall across the darkening road.
</p>
<p>Roger lighted the lamps, and drew out extra
fur robes, for the evening air was growing chill.
</p>
<p>“Isn’t it wonderful!” said Patty, almost in
a whisper. “Motoring by daylight is gay and
festive, but now, to glide along so swiftly and
silently through the darkness, is so strange that
it’s almost solemn. As it grows darker and
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span>
blacker, it seems as if we were gliding away,—away
into eternity.”
</p>
<p>“For gracious’ sake, child,” said Mrs. Farrington,
“don’t talk like that! You give me
the shivers; say something more lively, quick!”
</p>
<p>Patty laughed merrily.
</p>
<p>“That was only a passing mood,” she said.
“Really, I think it’s awfully jolly for us to be
scooting along like this, with our lamps shining.
We’re just like a great big fire-fly or a dancing
will-o’-the-wisp.”
</p>
<p>“You have a well-trained imagination,
Patty,” said Mrs. Farrington, laughing at the
girl’s quick change from grave to gay. “You
can make it obey your will, can’t you?”
</p>
<p>“Yes, ma’am,” said Patty demurely, “what’s
the use of having an imagination, if you can’t
make it work for you?”
</p>
<p>The car was comfortably lighted inside as
well as out, with electric lamps, and the occupants
were, as Mr. Farrington said, as cozy
and homelike as if they were in a gipsy waggon.
</p>
<p>Patty laughed at the comparison and said
she thought that very few gipsy waggons had
the luxuries and modern appliances of The Fact.
</p>
<p>“That may be,” said Mr. Farrington, “but
you must admit the gipsy waggon is the more
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span>
picturesque vehicle. The way they shirr that
calico arrangement around their back door, has
long been my admiration.”
</p>
<p>“It is beautiful,” said Patty, “and the way
the stove-pipe comes out of the roof,——”
</p>
<p>“And the children’s heads out ’most anywhere,”
added Elise; “yes, it’s certainly picturesque.”
</p>
<p>“Speaking of gipsy waggons makes me
hungry,” said Mrs. Farrington. “What time
is it, and how soon shall we reach the
Warners’?”
</p>
<p>“It’s after eight o’clock, my dear,” said her
husband, “and I’m sure we can’t get there before
ten, and then, of course, we won’t have
dinner at once, so do let us partake of a little
light refreshment.”
</p>
<p>“Seems to me we are always eating,” said
Patty, “but I’m free to confess that I’m about
as hungry as a full grown anaconda.”
</p>
<p>Without reducing their speed, and they were
going fairly fast, the tourists indulged in a picnic
luncheon. There was no tea making, but
sandwiches and little cakes and glasses of milk
were gratefully accepted.
</p>
<p>“This is all very well,” said Mrs. Farrington,
after supper was over, “and I wouldn’t for
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span>
a moment have you think that I’m tired or
frightened, or the least mite timid. But if I
may have my way, hereafter we’ll make no
definite promises to be at any particular place
at any particular time. I wish when you had
telephoned, John, you had told the Warners
that we wouldn’t arrive until to-morrow. Then
we could have stopped somewhere, and spent
the night like civilised beings, instead of doing
this gipsy act.”
</p>
<p>“It would have been a good idea,” said Mr.
Farrington thoughtfully, “but it’s a bit too late
now, so there’s no use worrying about it. But
cheer up, my friend, I think we’ll arrive shortly.”
</p>
<p>“I think we won’t,” said Roger. “I don’t
want to be discouraging, but we haven’t passed
the old stone quarry yet, and that’s a mighty
long way this side of Pine Branches.”
</p>
<p>“You’re sure you know the way, aren’t you,
Roger?” asked his mother, her tone betraying
the first trace of anxiety she had yet shown.
</p>
<p>“Oh, yes,” said Roger, and Patty wasn’t sure
whether she imagined it, or whether the boy’s
answer was not quite as positive as it was meant
to sound.
</p>
<p>“Well, I’m glad you do,” said Mr. Farrington,
“for I confess I don’t. We’re doubtless
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span>
on the right road, but I haven’t as yet seen any
familiar landmarks.”
</p>
<p>“We’re on the right road, all right,” said
Roger. “You know there’s a long stretch this
side of Pine Branches, without any villages
at all.”
</p>
<p>“I know it,” said Mrs. Farrington, “but it is
dotted with large country places, and farms.
Are you passing those, Roger? I can’t seem to
see any?”
</p>
<p>“I haven’t noticed very many, Mother, but
I think we haven’t come to them yet. Chirk up,
it’s quite some distance yet, but we’ll keep going
till we get there.”
</p>
<p>“Oh,” said Mrs. Farrington, “what if the
belt should break, or something give way!”
</p>
<p>“Don’t think of such things, Mother; nothing
is going to give way. But if it should, why,
we’ll just sit here till morning, and then we can
see to fix it.”
</p>
<p>Mrs. Farrington couldn’t help laughing at
Roger’s good nature, but she said, “Of course,
I know everything’s all right, and truly, I’m
not a bit frightened. But somehow, John, I’d
feel more comfortable if you’d come back here
with me, and let one of the girls sit in front in
your place.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></p>
<p>“Certainly,” said her husband, “hop over
here, Elise.”
</p>
<p>“Let me go,” cried Patty, who somehow felt,
intuitively, that Elise would prefer to stay behind
with her parents. As for Patty herself,
she had no fear, and really wanted the exciting
experience of sitting up in front during this wild
night ride.
</p>
<p>Roger stopped the car, and the change was
soon effected. As Patty insisted upon it, she was
allowed to go instead of Elise, and in a moment
they were off again.
</p>
<p>“Do you know,” said Patty to Roger, after
they had started, “when I got out then, I felt
two or three drops of rain!”
</p>
<p>“I do know it,” said Roger, in a low tone,
“and I may as well tell you, Patty, that there’s
going to be a hard storm before long. Certainly
before we reach Pine Branches.”
</p>
<p>“How dreadful,” said Patty, who was awed
more by the anxious note in Roger’s voice, than
by the thought of the rain storm. “Don’t you
think it would be better,” she went on, hoping
to make a helpful suggestion, “if we should put
in to some house until the storm is over? Surely
anybody would give us shelter.”
</p>
<p>“I don’t see any houses,” said Roger, “and,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span>
Patty, I may as well own up, we’re off the road
somehow. I think I must have taken the wrong
turning at that fork a few miles back. And
though I’m not quite sure, yet I feel a growing
conviction that we’re lost.”
</p>
<p>Although the situation was appalling, for
some unexplainable reason Patty couldn’t help
giggling.
</p>
<p>“Lost!” she exclaimed in a tragic whisper,
“in the middle of the night! in a desolate
country region! and a storm coming on!”
</p>
<p>Patty’s dramatic summary of the situation
made Roger laugh too. And their peals of
gaiety reassured the three who sat behind.
</p>
<p>“What are you laughing at?” said Elise;
“I wish you’d tell me, for I’m ’most scared to
death, and Roger, it’s beginning to rain.”
</p>
<p>“You don’t say so!” said Roger, in a tone
of polite surprise, “why then we must put on
the curtains.” He stopped the car, and jumping
down from his place, began to arrange the
curtains which were always carried in case of
rain.
</p>
<p>Mr. Farrington helped him, and as he did so,
remarked, “Looks like something of a storm,
my boy.”
</p>
<p>“Father,” said Roger, in a low voice, “it’s
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span>
going to rain cats and dogs, and there may be
a few thunders and lightnings. I hope mother
won’t have hysterics, and I don’t believe she
will, if you sit by her and hold her hand. I
don’t think we’d better stop. I think we’d better
drive straight ahead, but, Dad, I believe
we’re on the wrong road. We’re not lost; I
know the way all right, but to go around the
way we are going, is about forty miles farther
than the way I meant to go; and yet I don’t
dare turn back and try to get on the other road
again, for fear I’ll really get lost.”
</p>
<p>“Roger,” said Mr. Farrington, “you’re a
first-class chauffeur, and I’ll give you a reference
whenever you want one, but I must admit that
to-night you have succeeded in getting us into
a pretty mess.”
</p>
<p>Roger was grateful enough for the light way
in which his father treated the rather serious
situation, but the boy keenly felt his responsibility.
</p>
<p>“Good old Dad,” he said, “you’re a brick!
Get in back now, and look after mother and
Elise. Don’t let them shoot me or anything,
when I’m not looking. Patty is a little trump;
she is plucky clear through, and I am glad to
have her up in front with me. Now I’ll do the
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span>
best I can, and drive straight through the storm.
If I see any sort of a place where we can turn
in for shelter, I think we’d better do it, don’t
you?”
</p>
<p>“I do, indeed,” said his father. “Meantime,
my boy, go ahead. I trust the whole matter
to you, for you’re a more expert driver than
I am.”
</p>
<p>It was already raining fast as the two men
again climbed into the car. But the curtains
all around kept the travellers dry, and with its
cheery lights the interior of the car was cozy
and pleasant.
</p>
<p>In front was a curtain with a large window
of mica which gave ample view of the road
ahead.
</p>
<p>With his strong and well-arranged lights,
Roger had no fear of collision, and as they were
well protected from the rain, his chief worriment
was because they were on the wrong
road.
</p>
<p>“It’s miles and miles longer to go around
this way,” he confided to Patty. “I don’t know
what time we’ll ever get there.”
</p>
<p>“Never mind,” said Patty, who wanted to
cheer him up. “I think this is a great experience.
I suppose there’s danger, but somehow
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span>
I can’t help enjoying the wild excitement
of it.”
</p>
<p>“I’m glad you like it,” said Roger a little
grimly. “I’m always pleased to entertain my
guests.”
</p>
<p>The storm was increasing, and now amounted
to a gale. The rain dashed against the curtains
in great wet sheets, and finally forced its
way in at a few of the crevices.
</p>
<p>Mrs. Farrington, sitting between her husband
and daughter, was thoroughly frightened and
extremely uncomfortable, but she pluckily refrained
from giving way to her nervousness,
and succeeded in behaving herself with real
bravery and courage.
</p>
<p>Still the tempest grew. So wildly did it dash
against the front curtain that Patty and Roger
could see scarcely a foot before the machine.
</p>
<p>“There’s one comfort,” said Roger, through
his clenched teeth, “we’re not in danger of
running into anything, for no other fools would
be abroad such a night as this. Patty, I’m going
to speed her! I’m going to race the storm!”
</p>
<p>“Do!” said Patty, who was wrought up to
a tense pitch of excitement by the war of the
elements without, and the novelty of the situation
within.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span></p>
<p>Roger increased the speed, and they flew
through the black night and dashed into the
pouring rain, while Patty held her breath, and
wondered what would happen next.
</p>
<p>On they went and on. Patty’s imagination
kept pace with her experiences and through her
mind flitted visions of Tam O’Shanter’s ride,
John Gilpin’s ride and the ride of Collins
Graves. But all of these seemed tame affairs
beside their own break-neck speed through the
wild night!
</p>
<p>“Roger,” said his mother, “Roger, won’t
you please——”
</p>
<p>“Ask her not to speak to me just now, Patty,
please,” said the boy, in such a tense, strained
voice that Patty was frightened at last, but she
knew that if Roger were frightened, that was a
special reason for her own calmness and bravery.
Turning slightly, she said, “Please don’t speak
to him just now, Mrs. Farrington; he wants to
put all his attention on his steering.”
</p>
<p>“Very well,” said Mrs. Farrington, who had
not the slightest idea that there was any cause
for alarm, aside from the discomfort of the
storm. “I only wanted to tell him to watch
out for railroad trains.”
</p>
<p>And then Patty realised that that was just
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span>
what Roger was looking out for! She could
not see ahead into the blinding rain, but she
knew they were going down hill. She heard
what seemed like the distant whistle of a locomotive,
and suddenly realising that Roger could
not stop the car and must cross the track before
the train came, she thought at the same moment
that if Mrs. Farrington should impulsively
reach over and grasp the boy’s arm, or anything
like that, it might mean terrible disaster.
</p>
<p>Acting upon a quick impulse to prevent this,
she turned round herself, and with a voice whose
calmness surprised her, she said, “Please, Mrs.
Farrington, could you get me a sandwich out
of the basket?”
</p>
<p>“Bless you, no, child!” said that lady, her
attention instantly diverted by Patty’s ruse.
“That is, I don’t believe I can, but I’ll try.”
</p>
<p>Patty was far from wanting a sandwich, but
she felt that she had at least averted the possible
danger of Mrs. Farrington’s suddenly
clutching Roger, and as she turned back to face
the front, the great car whizzed across the slippery
railroad track, just as Patty saw the headlight
of a locomotive not two hundred feet away
from them.
</p>
<p>“Oh, Roger,” she breathed, clasping her
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span>
hands tightly, lest she herself should touch the
boy, and so interfere with his steering.
</p>
<p>“It’s all right, Patty,” said Roger in a breathless
voice, and as she looked at his white face,
she realised the danger they had so narrowly
escaped.
</p>
<p>Those in the back seat could not see the train,
and the roar of the storm drowned its noise.
</p>
<p>“Patty,” said Roger, very softly, “you
saved us! I understood just what you did. I
felt <i>sure</i> Mother was going to grab at me, when
she heard that whistle. It’s a way she has,
when she’s nervous or frightened, and I can’t
seem to make her stop it. But you saved the
day with your sandwich trick, and if ever we
get in out of the rain, I’ll tell you what I think
of you!”
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XIV_PINE_BRANCHES' id='XIV_PINE_BRANCHES'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
<h3>PINE BRANCHES</h3>
</div>
<p>There were still many miles to cover
before they reached their destination,
but there were no more railroad tracks
to cross, and as there was little danger of meeting
anyone, Roger let the car fly along at a high
rate of speed. The storm continued and though
the party endeavoured to keep cheerful, yet the
situation was depressing, and each found it difficult
not to show it.
</p>
<p>Roger, of course, devoted his exclusive attention
to driving the car, and Patty scarcely
dared to breathe, lest she should disturb him in
some way.
</p>
<p>The three on the back seat became rather
silent also, and at last everybody was rejoiced
when Roger said, “Those lights ahead are at
the entrance gate of Pine Branches.”
</p>
<p>Then the whole party waxed cheerful again.
</p>
<p>Mr. Farrington looked at his watch. “It’s
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span>
quarter of two,” he said, “do you suppose we
can get in at this hour?”
</p>
<p>“Indeed we will get in,” declared Roger,
“if I have to drive this car smash through the
gates, and <i>bang</i> in at the front door!”
</p>
<p>The strain was beginning to tell on the boy,
who had really had a fearful night of it, and
he went dashing up to the large gates with a
feeling of great relief that the end of the journey
was at hand.
</p>
<p>When they reached the entrance, the rain
was coming down in torrents. Great lanterns
hung either side of the portal, and disclosed the
fact that the gates were shut and locked.
</p>
<p>Roger had expected this, for he felt sure the
Warners had long ago given up all thought of
seeing their guests that night.
</p>
<p>Repeated soundings of the horn failed to
bring any response from the lodge-keeper, and
Roger was just about to get out of the car, and
ring the bell at the large door, when Patty’s
quick eye discerned a faint light at one of the
windows.
</p>
<p>“Sure enough,” said Roger, as she called his
attention to this, and after a few moments the
large door was opened, and the porter gazed out
into the storm.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span></p>
<p>“All right, sir, all right,” he called, seeing
the car; and donning a great raincoat, he came
out to open the gates.
</p>
<p>“Well, well, sir,” he said, as Mr. Farrington
leaned out to speak with him, “this is a
night, sure enough! Mr. Warner, sir, he gave
up looking for you at midnight.”
</p>
<p>“I don’t wonder,” said Mr. Farrington,
“and now, my man, can you ring your people
up, and is there anybody to take care of the
car?”
</p>
<p>“Yes, sir, yes, sir,” said the porter, “just
you drive on up to the house, and I’ll go back
to the lodge and ring up the chauffeur, and as
soon as he can get around he’ll take care of your
car. I’ll ring up the housekeeper too, but she’s
a slow old body, and you’d best sound your horn
all the way up the drive.”
</p>
<p>Roger acted on this advice and The Fact
went tooting up the driveway, and finally came
to a standstill at the front entrance of Pine
Branches.
</p>
<p>They were under a <i>porte-cochère</i>, and as soon
as they stopped, Elise jumped out, and began a
vigorous onslaught on the doorbell. Roger
kept the horn sounding, and after a few moments
the door was opened by a somewhat
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span>
sleepy-looking butler. As they entered, Mr.
Warner, whose appearance gave evidence of a
hasty toilet, came flying down the staircase,
three steps at a time.
</p>
<p>“Well, well, my friends,” he exclaimed,
“I’m glad to see you, I am overjoyed to see
you! We were expecting you just at this particular
minute, and I am so glad that you arrived
on time. How do you do, Mrs. Farrington?
And Elise, my dear child, how you’ve grown
since I saw you last! This is Patty Fairfield, is
it? How do you do, Patty? I am very glad
to see you. Roger, my boy, you look exhausted.
Has your car been cutting up jinks?”
</p>
<p>As Mr. Warner talked, he bustled around
shaking hands with his guests, assisting them
out of their wraps, and disposing of them in
comfortable chairs.
</p>
<p>Meantime the rest of the family appeared.
</p>
<p>Bertha Warner, a merry-looking girl of about
Patty’s age, came flying downstairs, pinning her
collar as she ran.
</p>
<p>“How jolly of you,” she cried, “to come in
the middle of the night! Such fun! I’m so
glad to see you, Elise; and this is Patty Fairfield?
Patty, I think you’re lovely.”
</p>
<p>The impulsive Bertha kissed Patty on both
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span>
cheeks, and then turned to make way for her
mother.
</p>
<p>Mrs. Warner was as merry and as hearty in
her welcome as the others. She acted as if it
were an ordinary occurrence to be wakened from
sleep at two o’clock in the morning, to greet
newly arrived guests, and she greeted Patty
quite as warmly as the others.
</p>
<p>Suddenly a wild whoop was heard, and Winthrop
Warner, the son of the house, came running
downstairs.
</p>
<p>“Jolly old crowd!” he cried, “you wouldn’t
let a little thing like a tornado stop your progress,
would you? I’m glad you persevered and
reached here, even though a trifle late.”
</p>
<p>Winthrop was a broad-shouldered, athletic
young man, of perhaps twenty-four, and though
he chaffed Roger merrily, he greeted the ladies
with hospitable courtesy, and looked about to
see what he could do for their further comfort.
They were still in the great square entrance hall,
which was one of the most attractive rooms at
Pine Branches. A huge corner fireplace showed
the charred logs of a fire which had only recently
gone out, and Winthrop rapidly twisted up some
paper, which he lighted, and procuring a few
small sticks, soon had a crackling blaze.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span></p>
<p>“You must be damp and chilly,” he said,
“and a little fire will thaw you out. Mother,
will you get something ready for a feast?”
</p>
<p>“We should have waited dinner,” began
Mrs. Warner, “and we did wait until after ten,
and then we gave you up.”
</p>
<p>“It’s nearer time for breakfast than for dinner,”
said Elise.
</p>
<p>“I don’t want breakfast,” declared Roger,
“I don’t like that meal anyway. No shredded
whisk brooms for me.”
</p>
<p>“We’ll have a nondescript meal,” said Mrs.
Warner, gaily, “and each one may call it by
whatever name he chooses.”
</p>
<p>In a short time they were all invited to the
dining-room, and found the table filled with a
variety of delicious viands.
</p>
<p>Such a merry tableful of people as partook
of the feast! The Warners seemed to enjoy
the fact that their guests arrived at such an
unconventional hour, and the Farrington party
were so glad to have reached their destination
safely that they were in the highest of spirits.
</p>
<p>Of course the details of the trip had to be
explained, and Roger was unmercifully chaffed
by Winthrop and his father for having taken
the wrong road. But so good-naturedly did the
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span>
boy take the teasing, and so successfully did he
pretend that he came around that way merely
for the purpose of extending a pleasant tour,
that he got the best of them after all.
</p>
<p>At last Mrs. Warner declared that people
who had been through such thrilling experiences
must be in immediate need of rest, and she gave
orders that they must all start for bed forthwith.
</p>
<p>It is needless to say that breakfast was not
early next morning. Nor did it consist as Roger
had intimated, of “shredded whisk brooms,”
but was a delightful meal, at which Patty became
better acquainted with the Warner family,
and confirmed the pleasant impressions she had
received the night before.
</p>
<p>After breakfast Mrs. Warner announced
that everybody was to do exactly as he or she
pleased until the luncheon hour, but she had
plans herself for their entertainment in the
afternoon.
</p>
<p>So Winthrop and Roger went off on some affairs
of their own, and Bertha devoted herself
to the amusement of the two girls.
</p>
<p>First, she suggested they should all walk
around the place, and this proved a delightful
occupation.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span></p>
<p>Pine Branches was an immense estate, covering
hundreds of acres, and there was a brook,
a grove, golf grounds, tennis court and everything
that could by any possibility add to the
interest or pleasure of its occupants.
</p>
<p>“But my chief and dearest possession,” said
Bertha, smiling, “is Abiram.”
</p>
<p>“A dog?” asked Patty.
</p>
<p>“No,” said Bertha, “but come, and I will
show him to you. He lives down here, in this
little house.”
</p>
<p>The little house was very like a large-sized
dog-kennel, but when they reached it, its occupant
proved to be a woolly black bear cub.
</p>
<p>“He’s a perfect dear, Abiram is,” said
Bertha, as she opened the door, and the fat
little bear came waddling out. He was fastened
to a long chain, and his antics were funny
beyond description.
</p>
<p>“He’s a real picture-bear,” said Bertha;
“see, his poses are just like those of the bears
in the funny papers.”
</p>
<p>And so they were. Patty and Elise laughed
heartily to see Abiram sit up and cross his paws
over his fat little body.
</p>
<p>“How old is he?” asked Patty.
</p>
<p>“Oh, very young, he’s just a cub. And of
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span>
course, we can’t keep him long. Nobody wants
a big bear around. At the end of the summer,
Papa says, he’ll have to be sent to the Zoo. But
we have lots of fun looking at him now, and I
take pictures of him with my camera. He’s a
dear old thing.” Bertha was sitting down by
the bear, playing with him as with a puppy, and
indeed the soft little creature showed no trace
of wild animal habits, or even of mischievous
intent.
</p>
<p>“He’s just like a big baby,” said Patty.
“Wouldn’t it be fun to dress him up as one?”
</p>
<p>“Let’s do it,” cried Bertha, gleefully. “Come
on, girls, let’s fly up to the house, and get the
things.”
</p>
<p>Leaving Abiram sitting in the sun, the three
girls scampered back to the house. Bertha procured
two large white aprons and declared they
would make a lovely baby dress.
</p>
<p>And so they did. By sewing the sides together
nearly to the top, and tying the strings
in great bows to answer as shoulder straps, the
dress was declared perfect. A dainty sunbonnet,
with a wide fluffy ruffle, which was a
part of Bertha’s own wardrobe, was taken also,
and with a string of large blue beads, and
an enormous baby’s rattle which Bertha unearthed
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span>
from her treasure-chest, the costume
was complete.
</p>
<p>Bertha got her camera, and giving Elise a
small, light chair to carry, they all ran back
to Abiram’s kennel.
</p>
<p>They found the little bear peacefully sleeping
in the sun, and when Bertha shook him awake
he showed no resentment, and graciously allowed
himself to be put into the clothes they
had brought. His forepaws were thrust through
the openings left for the purpose, and the stiff
white bows sticking up from his black shoulders,
made the girls scream with laughter. The
ruffled sunbonnet was put on his head, and coquettishly
tied on one side, and the string of
blue beads was clasped around his fat neck.
</p>
<p>Although Abiram seemed willing to submit
to the greatness that was being thrust upon him,
he experienced some difficulty in sitting up in
the chair in the position which Bertha insisted
upon.
</p>
<p>However, by dint of Patty’s holding his head
up from behind, she herself being screened from
view by a tree trunk, they induced Abiram to
hold the rattle long enough for Bertha to get a
picture.
</p>
<div class='figcenter'>
<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a>
<img src='images/illus3.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
<p class='caption' style='text-align:center;'>
“Although a successful snapshot was only achieved after<br />
many attempts”
<br />
</p>
</div>
<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span></div>
<p>Although a successful snapshot was only
achieved after many attempts, yet the girls had
great fun, and so silly and ridiculous did the
little bear behave that Patty afterward declared
she had never laughed so much in all her
life.
</p>
<p>After luncheon Mrs. Warner took her guests
for a drive, declaring that after their automobile
tour she felt sure that a carriage drive would
be a pleasant change.
</p>
<p>After the drive there was afternoon tea in
the library, when the men appeared, and everybody
chatted gaily over the events of the
day.
</p>
<p>Then they all dispersed to dress for dinner,
and Patty suddenly realised that she was living
in a very grown-up atmosphere, greatly in contrast
to her schoolgirl life.
</p>
<p>Bertha was a year or two older than Patty,
and though as merry and full of fun as a child,
she seemed to have the ways and effects of a
grown-up young lady.
</p>
<p>Elise also had lived a life which had accustomed
her to formality and ceremony, and
though only a year older than Patty in reality,
she was far more advanced in worldly wisdom
and ceremonious observances.
</p>
<p>But Patty was adaptable by nature, and when
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span>
in Rome she was quite ready to do as the
Romans did.
</p>
<p>So she put on one of her prettiest frocks for
dinner, and allowed Bertha to do her hair in a
new way which seemed to add a year or so to
her appearance.
</p>
<p>There were a few other guests at dinner, and
as Patty always enjoyed meeting strangers, she
took great interest in all the details of entertainment
at Pine Branches.
</p>
<p>At the table she found herself seated between
Bertha and Winthrop. This pleased her, for
she was glad of an opportunity to get better acquainted
with the young man, of whom she had
seen little during the day.
</p>
<p>Although frank and boyish in some ways,
Winthrop Warner gave her the impression of
being very wise and scholarly.
</p>
<p>She said as much to him, whereupon he explained
that he was a student, and was making
a specialty of certain branches of scientific lore.
These included ethnology and anthropology,
which names caused Patty to feel a sudden awe
of the young man beside her.
</p>
<p>But Winthrop only laughed, and said,
“Don’t let those long words frighten you. I
assure you that they stand for most interesting
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span>
subjects, and some day if you will come to my
study, I will promise to prove that to you.
Meantime we will ignore my scientific side, and
just consider that we are two gay young people
enjoying a summer holiday.”
</p>
<p>The young man’s affable manner and kind
smile put Patty quite at her ease, and she
chatted so merrily that when the dinner hour
was over she and Winthrop had become good
friends and comrades.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XV_MISS_AURORA_BENDER' id='XV_MISS_AURORA_BENDER'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2>
<h3>MISS AURORA BENDER</h3>
</div>
<p>After a visit of a few days, it was decided
that Mr. and Mrs. Farrington and
Roger should continue the motor-trip on
to Boston, and to certain places along the New
England coast, while Patty and Elise should
stay at Pine Branches for a longer visit.
</p>
<p>The girls had expected to continue the trip
with the others, but Bertha had coaxed them to
stay longer with her, and had held out such
attractive inducements that they decided to
remain.
</p>
<p>Patty, herself, was pleased with the plan, because
she still felt the effects of her recent mental
strain, and realised that the luxurious ease
of Pine Branches would be far more of a rest
than the more exciting experiences of a motor
trip.
</p>
<p>So the girls were installed for a fortnight or
more in the beautiful home of the Warners,
and with so many means of pleasure at her disposal,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span>
Patty looked forward to a delightful
period of both rest and recreation.
</p>
<p>One morning, Bertha declared her intention
of taking the girls to call on Miss Aurora
Bender.
</p>
<p>“Who is she?” inquired Patty, as the three
started off in Bertha’s pony-cart.
</p>
<p>“She’s a character,” said Bertha, “but I
won’t tell you anything about her; you can see
her, and judge for yourself.”
</p>
<p>A drive of several miles brought them to a
quaint old-fashioned farmhouse.
</p>
<p>The house, which had the appearance of being
very old, was built of stone and painted a
light yellow, with white trimmings. Everything
about the place was in perfect repair and
exquisite order, and as they drove in around
the gravel circle that surrounded a carefully
kept bit of green lawn, Bertha stopped the cart
at an old-fashioned carriage-block, and the girls
got out. Running up the steps, Bertha clanged
the old brass knocker at what seemed to Patty
to be the kitchen door. It was opened by a tall,
gaunt woman, with sharp features and angular
figure.
</p>
<p>“Well, I declare to goodness, Bertha Warner,
if you aren’t here again! Who’s that
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span>
you’ve got with you this time? City folks, I
s’pose. Well come in, all of you, but wipe your
feet first. As you’ve been riding, I s’pose they
ain’t muddy much, but it’s well to be on the
safe side. So wipe ’em good and then troop
in.”
</p>
<p>Miss Aurora Bender had pushed her heavy
gold-bowed glasses up on the top of her head,
and her whole-souled smile of welcome belied
the gruffness of her tone, and the seeming inhospitality
of her words.
</p>
<p>The girls took pains to wipe their dainty
boots on the gaily-coloured braided rug which
lay just outside the door.
</p>
<p>Then they entered a spacious low-ceiled room,
which seemed to partake of the qualities of both
kitchen and dining-room. At one end was an
immense fireplace, with an old-fashioned swinging
crane, from which depended many skillets
and kettles of highly polished brass or
copper.
</p>
<p>On either side of the room was a large dresser,
with glass doors, through which showed
quantities of rare old china that made Patty’s
eyes shine with delight. A quaint old settle and
various old chairs of Windsor pattern stood
round the walls. The floor was painted yellow,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span>
and here and there were braided mats of various
designs.
</p>
<p>“Sit down, girls, sit down,” said Miss Bender,
cordially, “and now Bertha, tell me these
young ladies’ names,—unless, that is to say,
you’d rather sit in the parlour?”
</p>
<p>“We would rather sit in the parlour, Miss
Bender,” said Bertha, quickly, and as if fearing
her hostess might not follow up her suggestion,
Bertha opened a door leading to the
front hall, and started toward the parlour, herself.
</p>
<p>“Well,” said Miss Bender, with a note of
regret in her voice, “I s’pose if you must, you
must; though for my part, I’m free to confess
that this room’s a heap more cozy and livable.”
</p>
<p>“That may be,” said Bertha, who had beckoned
to the girls to follow quickly, “but my
friends are from the city, as you suspected, and
they don’t often have a chance in New York to
see a parlour like yours, Miss Bender.”
</p>
<p>As Bertha had intended, this bit of flattery
mollified the old lady, and she followed her
guests along the dark hall.
</p>
<p>“Well, if you’re bound to have it so,” she
said, “do wait a minute, and let me get in there
and pull up the blinds. It’s darker than Japhet’s
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span>
coat pocket. I haven’t had this room opened
since Mis’ Perkins across the road had her last
tea fight. And I only did it then, ’cause I
wanted to set some vases of my early primroses
in the windows, so’s the guests might see ’em
as they came by. Seems to me it’s a little musty
in here, but land! a room will get musty if it’s
shut up, and what earthly good is a parlour except
to keep shut up?”
</p>
<p>As Miss Bender talked, she had bustled
about, and thrown open the six windows of the
large room, into which Bertha had taken the
girls.
</p>
<p>The sunlight streamed in, and disclosed a
scene which seemed to Patty like a wonderful
vision of a century ago.
</p>
<p>And indeed for more than a hundred years
the furniture of the great parlour had stood precisely
as they now saw it.
</p>
<p>The furniture was entirely of antique mahogany,
and included sofas and chairs, various kinds
of tables, bookcases, a highboy, a lowboy and
other pieces of furniture of which Patty knew
neither the name nor the use.
</p>
<p>The pictures on the wall, the ornaments, the
books and the old-fashioned brass candlesticks
were all of the same ancient period, and Patty
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span>
felt as if she had been transported back into the
life of her great-grandmother.
</p>
<p>As she had herself a pretty good knowledge
of the styles and varieties of antique furniture,
she won Miss Bender’s heart at once by her appreciation
of her Heppelwhite chairs and her
Chippendale card-tables.
</p>
<p>“You don’t say,” said Miss Bender, looking
at Patty in admiration, “that you really know
one style from another! Lots of people pretend
they do, but they soon get confused when I
try to pin ’em down.”
</p>
<p>Patty smiled, as she disclaimed any great
knowledge of the subject, but she soon found
that she knew enough to satisfy her hostess,
who, after all, enjoyed describing her treasures
even more than listening to their praises.
</p>
<p>Miss Aurora Bender was a lady of sudden
and rapid physical motion. While the girls
were examining the wonderful old relics, she
darted from the room, and returned in a moment,
carrying two large baskets. They were
of the old-fashioned type of closely-woven reed,
with a handle over the top, and a cover to lift
up on either side.
</p>
<p>Miss Bender plumped herself down in the
middle of a long sofa, and began rapidly to extract
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span>
the contents of the baskets, which proved
to be numerous fat rolls of gayly-coloured cotton
material.
</p>
<p>“It’s patchwork,” she announced, “and I
make it my habit to get all the help I can. I’m
piecing a quilt, goose-chase pattern, and while I
don’t know as it’s the prettiest there is, yet I
don’t know as ’tisn’t. If you girls expect to sit
the morning, and I must say you look like it,
you might lend a helping hand. I made the
geese smaller’n I otherwise would, ’cause I had
so many little pieces left from my rising-sun
quilt. Looks just as well, of course, but takes
a powerful sight of time to sew. And I must
say I’m sorter particular about sewing. However,
I don’t s’pose you young things of this
day and generation know much about sewing,
but if you go slow you can’t help doing it pretty
well.”
</p>
<p>As she talked, Miss Bender had hastily presented
each of the girls with a basted block of
patchwork, and had passed around a needle-cushion
and a small box containing a number of
old-fashioned silver thimbles.
</p>
<p>“Lucky I had a big family,” she commented,
“else I don’t know what I’d done for thimbles
to go around. I can’t abide brass things, that
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span>
make your finger look like it had been dipped
in ink, but thanks to my seven sisters who are
all restin’ comfortably in their graves, I have
enough thimbles to provide quite a parcel of
company. Here’s your thread. Now sew away
while we talk, and we’ll have a real nice little
bee.”
</p>
<p>Although not especially fond of sewing, the
girls looked upon this episode as a good joke,
and fell to work at their bits of cloth.
</p>
<p>Elise was a dainty little needlewoman, and
overhanded rapidly and neatly; Patty did fairly
well, though her stitches were not quite even,
but poor Bertha found her work a difficult task.
She never did fancywork, and knew nothing of
sewing, so her thread knotted and broke, and
her patch presented a sorry sight.
</p>
<p>“Land o’ Goshen!” exclaimed Miss Aurora,
“is that the best you can do, Bertha Warner?
The town ought to take up a subscription to
put you in a sewin’ school. Here child, let me
show you.”
</p>
<p>Miss Bender took Bertha’s block and tried
to straighten it out, while Bertha herself made
funny faces at the other girls over Miss
Aurora’s shoulder.
</p>
<p>“I can see you,” said that lady calmly, “I
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span>
guess you forget that big mirror opposite. But
them faces you’re makin’ ain’t half so bad as
this sewin’ of yours.”
</p>
<p>The girls all laughed outright at Miss Bender’s
calm acceptance of Bertha’s sauciness, and
Bertha herself was in nowise embarrassed by the
implied rebuke.
</p>
<p>“There, child,” said Miss Aurora, smoothing
out the seams with her thumb nail, “now
try again, and see if you can’t do it some
better.”
</p>
<p>“Is your quilt nearly done, Miss Bender?”
asked Patty.
</p>
<p>“Yes, it is. I’ve got three hundred and
eighty-seven geese finished, and four hundred’s
enough. I work on it myself quite a spell every
day, and I think in two or three days I’ll have
it all pieced.”
</p>
<p>“Oh, Miss Bender,” cried Bertha, “then
won’t you quilt it? Won’t you have a quilting
party while my friends are here?”
</p>
<p>“Humph,” said Miss Aurora, scornfully,
“you children can’t quilt fit to be seen.”
</p>
<p>“Elise can,” said Bertha, looking at Elise’s
dainty block, “and Patty can do pretty well,
and as I would spoil your quilt if I touched it,
Miss Aurora, I’ll promise to let it alone; but I
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span>
can do other things to help you. Oh, do have
the party, will you?”
</p>
<p>“Why, I don’t know but I will. I kinder
calculated to have it soon, anyhow, and if so
be’s you young people would like to come to it,
I don’t see anything to hinder. S’pose we say
a week from to-day?”
</p>
<p>The date was decided on, and the girls went
home in high glee over the quilting party, for
Bertha told them it would be great fun of a
sort they had probably never seen before.
</p>
<hr class='tb' />
<p>The days flew by rapidly at Pine Branches.
Patty rapidly recovered her usual perfect health
and rosy cheeks. She played golf and tennis,
she went for long rides in the Warners’ motor-car
or carriages, and also on horseback. There
were many guests at the house, coming and going,
and among these one day came Mr. Phelps,
whom they had met on their journey out from
New York.
</p>
<p>This gentleman proved to be of a merry disposition,
and added greatly to the gaiety of the
party. While he was there, Roger also came
back for a few days, having left Mr. and Mrs.
Farrington for a short stay at Nantucket.
</p>
<p>One morning, as Patty and Roger stood in
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span>
the hall, waiting for the other young people to
join them, they were startled to hear angry
voices in the music-room.
</p>
<p>This room was separated from them by the
length of the library, and though not quite distinct,
the voices were unmistakably those of
Bertha and Winthrop.
</p>
<p>“You did!” said Winthrop’s voice, “don’t
deny it! You’re a horrid hateful old thing!”
</p>
<p>“I didn’t! any such thing,” replied Bertha’s
voice, which sounded on the verge of tears.
</p>
<p>“You did! and if you don’t give it back to
me, I’ll tell mother. Mother said if she caught
you at such a thing again, she’d punish you as
you deserved, and I’m going to tell her!”
</p>
<p>Patty felt most uncomfortable at overhearing
this quarrel. She had never before heard a
word of disagreement between Bertha and her
brother, and she was surprised as well as sorry
to hear this exhibition of temper.
</p>
<p>Roger looked horrified, and glanced at Patty,
not knowing exactly what to do.
</p>
<p>The voices waxed more angry, and they
heard Bertha declare, “You’re a horrid old
telltale! Go on and tell, if you want to, and
I’ll tell what you stole out of father’s desk last
week!”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span></p>
<p>“How did you know that?” and Winthrop’s
voice rang out in rage.
</p>
<p>“Oh, I know all about it. You think nobody
knows anything but yourself, Smarty-cat!
Just wait till I tell father and see what he’ll
do to you.”
</p>
<p>“You won’t tell him! Promise me you
won’t, or I’ll,—I’ll hit you! There, take
that!”
</p>
<p>“That” seemed to be a resounding blow, and
immediately Bertha’s cries broke forth in angry
profusion.
</p>
<p>“Stop crying,” yelled her brother, “and stop
punching me. Stop it, I say!”
</p>
<p>At this point the conversation broke off suddenly,
and Patty and Roger stared in stupefied
amazement as they saw Bertha and Winthrop
walk in smiling, and hand in hand, from exactly
the opposite direction from which their quarrelsome
voices had sounded.
</p>
<p>“What’s the matter?” said Bertha. “Why
do you look so shocked and scared to death?”
</p>
<p>“N-nothing,” stammered Patty; while Roger
blurted out, “We thought we heard you talking
over that way, and then you came in from this
way. Who could it have been? The voices
were just like yours.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span></p>
<p>Bertha and Winthrop broke into a merry
laugh.
</p>
<p>“It’s the phonograph,” said Bertha. “Winthrop
and I fixed up that quarrel record, just
for fun; isn’t it a good one?”
</p>
<p>Roger understood at once, and went off into
peals of laughter, but Patty had to have it explained
to her.
</p>
<p>“You see,” said Winthrop, “we have a big
phonograph, and we make records for it ourselves.
Bertha and I fixed up that one just for
fun, and Elise is in there now looking after it.
Come on in, and see it.”
</p>
<p>They all went into the music-room, and Winthrop
entertained them by putting in various
cylinders, which they had made themselves.
</p>
<p>Almost as funny as the quarrel was Bertha’s
account of the occasion when she fell into the
creek, and many funny recitations by Mr. Warner
also made amusing records.
</p>
<p>Patty could hardly believe that she had not
heard her friends’ voices really raised in anger,
until Winthrop put the same record in and let
her hear it again.
</p>
<p>He also promised her that some day she
should make a record for herself, and leave it at
Pine Branches as a memento of her visit.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XVI_A_QUILTING_PARTY' id='XVI_A_QUILTING_PARTY'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
<h3>A QUILTING PARTY</h3>
</div>
<p>Miss Aurora Bender’s quilting
party was to begin at three o’clock in
the afternoon, and the girls started
early in order to see all the fun. They were to
stay to supper, and the young men were to come
over and escort them home in the evening.
</p>
<p>When they reached Miss Bender’s, they
found that many and wonderful preparations
had been made.
</p>
<p>Miss Aurora had two house servants, Emmeline
and Nancy, but on this occasion she had
called in two more to help. And indeed there
was plenty to be done, for a quilting bee was to
Miss Bender’s mind a function of great importance.
</p>
<p>The last of a large family, Miss Bender was
a woman of great wealth but of plain and old-fashioned
tastes. Though amply able to gratify
any extravagant wish, she preferred to live as
her parents had lived before her, and she had in
no sense kept pace with the progress of the age.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span></p>
<p>When the three girls reached the old country
house, they were met at the front door by the
elderly Nancy. She courtesied with old-time
grace, and invited them to step into the bedroom,
and lay off their things.
</p>
<p>This bedroom, which was on the ground
floor, was a large apartment, containing a marvellously
carved four-post bedstead, hung with
old-fashioned chintz curtains and draperies.
</p>
<p>The room also contained two massive
bureaus, a dressing-table and various chairs of
carved mahogany, and in the open fireplace was
an enormous bunch of feathery asparagus,
flecked with red berries.
</p>
<p>“Oh,” cried Patty in delight, “if Nan could
see this room she’d go perfectly crazy. Isn’t
this house great? Why, it’s quite as full of
beautiful old things as Washington’s house at
Mt. Vernon.”
</p>
<p>“I haven’t seen that,” said Bertha, “but it
doesn’t seem as if anything could be more complete
or perfect in its way than this house is.
Come on, girls, are you ready?”
</p>
<p>The girls went to the parlour, and there found
the quilt all prepared for working on. Patty
had never before seen a quilt stretched on a
quilting-frame, and was extremely interested.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></p>
<p>It was a very large quilt, and its innumerable
small triangles, which made up the goose-chase
pattern, were found to present a methodical
harmony of colouring, which had not been observable
before the strips were put together.
</p>
<p>The large pieced portion was uppermost, and
beneath it was the lining, with layers of cotton
in between. Each edge was pinned at intervals
to a long strip of material which was wound
round and round the frame. The four corners
of the frame were held up by being tied to the
backs of four chairs, and on each of the four
sides of the quilt were three more chairs for the
expected guests to occupy.
</p>
<p>Almost on the stroke of three the visitors arrived,
and though some of them were of a
more modern type than Miss Bender, yet three
or four were quite as old-fashioned and quaint-mannered
as their hostess.
</p>
<p>“They are native up here,” Bertha explained
to Patty. “There are only a few of the old
New England settlers left. Most of the population
here is composed of city people who have
large country places. You won’t often get an
opportunity to see a gathering like this.”
</p>
<p>Patty realised the truth of this, and was both
surprised and pleased to find that these country
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span>
ladies showed no trace of embarrassment or
self-consciousness before the city girls.
</p>
<p>It seemed not to occur to them that there was
any difference in their effects, and indeed Patty
was greatly amused because one of the old
ladies seemed to take it for granted that Patty
was a country girl, and brought up according to
old-time customs.
</p>
<p>This old lady, whose name was Mrs. Quimby,
sat next to Patty at the quilt, and after she had
peered through her glasses at the somewhat uneven
stitches which poor Patty was trying her
best to do as well as possible, she remarked:
</p>
<p>“You ain’t got much knack, have you?
You’ll have to practise quite a spell longer before
you can quilt your own house goods. How
old be you?”
</p>
<p>“Seventeen,” said Patty, feeling that her
work did not look very well, considering her
age.
</p>
<p>“Seventeen!” exclaimed Mrs. Quimby.
“Laws’ sake, I was married when I was sixteen,
and I quilted as good then as I do now.
I’m over eighty now, and I’d ruther quilt than
do anything, ’most. You don’t look to be
seventeen.”
</p>
<p>“And you don’t look to be eighty, either,”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span>
said Patty, smiling, glad to be able to turn the
subject by complimenting the old lady.
</p>
<p>The quilting lasted all the afternoon. Patty
grew very tired of the unaccustomed work, and
was glad when Miss Bender noticed it, and told
her to run out into the garden with Bertha.
Bertha was not allowed to touch the quilt with
her incompetent fingers, but Elise sewed away,
thoroughly enjoying it all, and with no desire
to avail herself of Miss Bender’s permission to
stop and rest. Patty and Bertha wandered
through the old-fashioned garden, in great delight.
The paths were bordered with tiny box
hedges, which, though many years old, were
kept clean and free from deadwood or blemish
of any sort, and were perfectly trimmed in
shape.
</p>
<p>The garden included quaint old flowers such
as marigolds, sweet Williams, bleeding hearts,
bachelors’ buttons, Jacob’s ladder and many
others of which Patty did not even know the
names. Tall hollyhocks, both single and double,
grew against the wall, and a hop vine hung in
green profusion.
</p>
<p>Every flower bed was of exact shape, and
looked as if not a leaf or a stem would dare to
grow otherwise than straight and true.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span></p>
<p>“What a lovely old garden,” said Patty,
sniffing at a sprig of lemon verbena which she
had picked.
</p>
<p>“Yes, it’s wonderful,” said Bertha. “I mean
to ask Miss Bender if I mayn’t bring my camera
over, and get a picture of it, and if they’re good,
I’ll give you one.”
</p>
<p>“Do,” said Patty, “and take some pictures
inside the house too. I’d like to show them to
Nan.”
</p>
<p>“Tell me about Nan,” said Bertha. “She’s
your stepmother, isn’t she?”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Patty, “but she’s only six years
older than I am, so that the stepmother part of
it seems ridiculous. We’re more like sisters, and
she’s perfectly crazy over old china and old furniture.
She’d love Miss Bender’s things.”
</p>
<p>“Perhaps she’ll come up while you’re here,”
said Bertha. “I’ll ask mother to write for
her.”
</p>
<p>“Thank you,” said Patty, “but I’m afraid
she won’t. My father can’t leave for his vacation
until July, and then we’re all going away
together, but I don’t know where.”
</p>
<p>Just then Elise came flying out to them, with
the announcement that supper was ready, and
they were to come right in, quick.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></p>
<p>The table was spread in the large room which
Patty had thought was the kitchen.
</p>
<p>It probably had been built for that purpose,
but other kitchens had been added beyond it,
and for the last half century it had been used
as a dining-room.
</p>
<p>The table was drawn out to its full length,
which made it very long indeed, and it was
filled with what seemed to Patty viands enough
to feed an army. At one end was a young pig
roasted whole, with a lemon in his mouth, and
a design in cloves stuck into his fat little side.
At the other end was a baked ham whose crisp
golden-brown crust could only be attained by
the old cook who had been in the Bender family
for many years.
</p>
<p>Up and down the length of the table on either
side was a succession of various cold meats, alternating
with pickles, jellies and savories of
various sorts.
</p>
<p>After the guests were seated, Nancy brought
in platters of smoking-hot biscuits from the
kitchen, and Miss Aurora herself made the tea.
</p>
<p>The furnishings of the table were of old blue
and white china of great age and priceless value.
The old family silver too was a marvel in itself,
and the tea service which Miss Bender
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span>
manipulated with some pride was over a hundred
years old.
</p>
<p>Patty was greatly impressed at this unusual
scene, but when the plates were removed after
the first course, and the busy maid-servants prepared
to serve the dessert, she was highly entertained.
</p>
<p>For the next course, though consisting only of
preserves and cake, was served in an unusual
manner. The preserves included every variety
known to housewives and a few more. In addition
to this, Miss Aurora announced in a voice
which was calm with repressed satisfaction, that
she had fourteen kinds of cake to put at the
disposal of her guests. None of these sorts
could be mixed with any other sort, and the
result was fourteen separate baskets and platters
of cake.
</p>
<p>The table became crowded before they had
all been brought in from the kitchen, and quite
as a matter of course, the serving maids placed
the later supplies on chairs, which they stood
behind the guests, and the ladies amiably turned
round in their seats, inspected the cake, partook
of it if they desired, and gracefully pushed the
chair along to the next neighbour.
</p>
<p>This seemed to the city girls a most amusing
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span>
performance, but Patty immediately adapted
herself to what was apparently the custom of
the house, and gravely looked at the cake each
time, selected such as pleased her fancy and
pushed the chair along.
</p>
<p>Noticing Patty’s gravity as she accomplished
this performance, Elise very nearly lost her own,
but Patty nudged her under the table, and she
managed to behave with propriety.
</p>
<p>The conversation at the table was without a
trace of hilarity, and included only the most dignified
subjects. The ladies ate mincingly, with
their little fingers sticking out straight, or
curved in what they considered a most elegant
fashion.
</p>
<p>Miss Aurora was in her element. She was
truly proud of her home and its appointments,
and she dearly loved to entertain company at
tea. To her mind, and indeed to the minds of
most of those present, the success of a tea depended
entirely upon the number of kinds of
cake that were served, and Miss Bender felt that
with fourteen she had broken any hitherto known
record.
</p>
<p>It was an unwritten law that each kind of
cake must be really a separate recipe. To take
a portion of ordinary cup-cake batter, and stir
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span>
in some chopped nuts, and another portion and
mix in some raisins, by no means met the requirements
of the case. This Patty learned
from remarks made by the visitors, and also
from Miss Aurora’s own delicately veiled intimations
that each of her fourteen kinds was
a totally different and distinct recipe.
</p>
<p>Patty couldn’t help wondering what would
become of all this cake, for after all, the guests
could eat but a small portion of it.
</p>
<p>And it occurred to her also that the ways of
the people in previous generations, as exemplified
in Miss Bender’s customs, seemed to show
quite as great a lack of a sense of proportion
as many of our so-called modern absurdities.
</p>
<p>After supper the guests immediately departed
for their homes. Carriages arrived for the different
ones, and they went away, after volubly
expressing to their hostess their thanks for her
delightful entertainment.
</p>
<p>The girls expected Winthrop and Roger to
come for them in the motor-car, but they had
not told them to come quite so early as now
seemed necessary. In some embarrassment, they
told Miss Bender that they would have to trespass
on her hospitality for perhaps an hour
longer.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span></p>
<p>“My land o’ goodness!” she exclaimed,
looking at them in dismay, “why I’ve got to
set this house to rights, and I can’t wait an hour
to begin!”
</p>
<p>“Don’t mind us, Miss Bender,” said Bertha.
“Just shut us up in some room by ourselves, and
we’ll stay there, and not bother you a bit; unless
perhaps we can help you?”
</p>
<p>“Help me! No, indeed. There can’t anybody
help me when I’m clearin’ up after a
quiltin’, unless it’s somebody that knows my
ways. But I’d like to amuse you children, somehow.
I’ll tell you what, you can go up in the
front bedroom, if you like, and there’s a chest
of old-fashioned clothes there. Can’t you play
at dressin’ up?”
</p>
<p>“Yes, indeed,” cried Bertha. “Just the
thing! Give us some candles.”
</p>
<p>Provided with two candles apiece, the girls
followed Miss Aurora to a large bedroom on
the second floor, which also boasted its carved
four-poster and chintz draperies.
</p>
<p>“There,” said Miss Aurora, throwing open
a great chest, “you ought to get some fun out
of trying on those fol-de-rols, and peacocking
around; but don’t come downstairs to show off
to me, for you’ll only bother me out of my wits.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span>
I’ll let you know when your folks come for
you.”
</p>
<p>Miss Bender trotted away, and the girls,
quite ready for a lark, tossed over the quaint old
gowns.
</p>
<p>Beautiful costumes were there, of the period
of about a hundred years ago. Lustrous silks
and dainty dimities; embroidered muslins and
heavy velvets; Patty had never seen such a sight.
After looking them over, the girls picked out
the ones they preferred, and taking off their own
frocks proceeded to try them on.
</p>
<p>Bertha had chosen a blue and white silk of a
bayadere stripe, with lace ruffles at the neck and
wrists and a skirt of voluminous fulness. Elise
wore a white Empire gown that made her look
exactly like the Empress Josephine, while Patty
arrayed herself in a flowered silk of Dresden
effect with a pointed bodice, square neck, and
elbow sleeves with lace frills.
</p>
<p>In great glee, the girls pranced around, regretting
there was no one to whom they might
exhibit their masquerade costumes. But Miss
Bender had been so positive in her orders that
they dared not go downstairs.
</p>
<p>Suddenly they heard the toot of an automobile.
</p>
<div class='figcenter'>
<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a>
<img src='images/illus4.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
<p class='caption' style='text-align:center;'>
“Patty arrayed herself in a flowered silk of Dresden effect”
<br />
</p>
</div>
<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></div>
<p>“That’s our car,” cried Bertha. “I know
the horn. Let’s go down just as we are, for the
benefit of Winthrop and Roger.”
</p>
<p>In answer to Miss Bender’s call from below,
the girls trooped downstairs, and merrily presented
themselves for inspection.
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps had come with the others, and if
the young men were pleased at the picture the
three girls presented, Miss Aurora herself was
no less so.
</p>
<p>“My,” she said, “you do look fine, I declare!
Now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do; I’ll
make each of you young ladies a present of the
gown you have on, if you care to keep it. I’ll
never miss them, for I have trunks and chests
full, besides those you saw, and I’m right down
glad to give them to you. You can wear them
sometimes at your fancy dress parties.”
</p>
<p>The girls were overjoyed at Miss Bender’s
gift, and Bertha declared they would wear them
home, and she would send over for their other
dresses the next day.
</p>
<p>So, donning their wraps, the merry modern
maids in their antique garb made their adieus
to Miss Aurora, and were soon in the big motor-car
speeding for home.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XVII_A_SUMMER_CHRISTMAS' id='XVII_A_SUMMER_CHRISTMAS'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
<h3>A SUMMER CHRISTMAS</h3>
</div>
<p>Although they had intended to stay
but a fortnight, Patty and Elise remained
with the Warners all through
the month of June, and even then Bertha
begged them to stay longer.
</p>
<p>But the day for their departure was set in
the first week of July, and Bertha declared that
they must have a big party of some kind as their
last entertainment for the girls.
</p>
<p>So Mrs. Warner invited a number of young
people for a house party during the last few
days of Patty’s stay.
</p>
<p>“I wish,” said Bertha, a few days before the
Fourth, “that we could have some kind of a
party on the Fourth of July that would be different
from just an ordinary party.”
</p>
<p>“Have an automobile party,” suggested
Roger, who was present.
</p>
<p>“I don’t mean that kind,” said Bertha, “I
mean a party in the house, but something that
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span>
would be fun. There isn’t anything to do on
Fourth of July except have fireworks, and that
isn’t much fun.”
</p>
<p>“I’ll tell you what,” said Mr. Phelps, who
was at Pine Branches on one of his flying visits,
“have a Christmas party.”
</p>
<p>“A Christmas party on Fourth of July!”
exclaimed Bertha, “that’s just the thing! Mr.
Phelps, you’re a real genius. That’s just what
we’ll do, and we’ll have a Christmas tree, and
give each other gifts and everything.”
</p>
<p>“Great!” said Roger, “and we’ll have a
Yule log blazing, and we’ll all wear our fur
coats.”
</p>
<p>“No, not that,” said Bertha, laughing,
“we’d melt. But we’ll have all the Christmas
effects that we can think of, and each one must
help.”
</p>
<p>The crowd of merry young people who were
gathered at Pine Branches eagerly fell in with
Bertha’s plan, and each began to make preparations
for the festival.
</p>
<p>The girls made gifts which they carefully
kept secret from the ones for whom they were
intended, and many trips were made to the village
for materials.
</p>
<p>The boys also had many mysterious errands,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span>
and Mr. and Mrs. Warner, who entered heartily
into the spirit of the fun, were frequently consulted
under strict bonds of confidence.
</p>
<p>Fourth of July came and proved to be a
warm, though not a sultry summer day.
</p>
<p>Invitations had been sent out, and a large
party of young people were expected in the
evening; and during the day those who were
staying at Pine Branches found plenty to do by
way of preparation.
</p>
<p>A large Christmas tree had been cut down,
and was brought into the library. As soon as
it was set up, the work of decoration began, and
it was hung with strings of popcorn, and tinsel
filigree which Mrs. Warner had saved from
previous Christmas trees. Dozens of candles
too, were put on the branches, to be lighted at
night.
</p>
<p>The boys brought in great boughs of evergreen,
and cut them up, while the girls made
ropes and wreaths and stars, with which to
adorn the room.
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps had sent to New York for a large
boxful of artificial holly, and this added greatly
to the Christmas effect.
</p>
<p>Patty was in her element helping with these
arrangements, for she dearly loved to make believe,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span>
and the idea of a Christmas party in midsummer
appealed very strongly to her sense of
humour.
</p>
<p>Her energy and enthusiasm were untiring,
and her original ideas called forth the hearty
applause of the others. She was consulted about
everything, and her decisions were always accepted.
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps too, proved a clever and willing
worker. He was an athletic young man, and he
seemed to be capable of doing half a dozen different
things at once. He cut greens, and hung
wreaths, and ran up and down stepladders, and
even managed to fasten a large gilt star to the
very top branch of the Christmas tree.
</p>
<p>After the decorations were all completed,
everybody brought their gifts neatly tied up and
labelled, and either hung them on the tree or
piled them up around the platform on which it
stood.
</p>
<p>“Well, you children have done wonders,”
said Mrs. Warner, looking in at the library
door. “You have transformed this room until
I hardly can recognise it, and it looks for all
the world exactly like Christmas. It is hard to
believe that it is really Fourth of July.”
</p>
<p>“It seems too bad not to have any of the
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span>
Fourth of July spirit mixed in with it,” said
Winthrop, “but I suppose it would spoil the
harmony. But we really ought to use a little
gunpowder in honour of the day. Come on,
Patty, your work is about finished, let’s go out
and put off a few firecrackers.”
</p>
<p>“All right,” said Patty, “just wait till I tack
up this ‘Merry Christmas’ motto, and I’ll be
ready.”
</p>
<p>“I’ll do that,” said Roger, “you infants run
along and show off your patriotism, and I’ll
join you in a few minutes.”
</p>
<p>“You must be tired,” said Winthrop to
Patty, as they sauntered out on the lawn. “You
worked awfully hard with those evergreen
things. Let’s go out on the lake and take our
firecrackers with us; that will rest you, and it
will be fun besides.”
</p>
<p>The lake, so called by courtesy, was really an
artificial pond, and though not large, it provided
a great deal of amusement.
</p>
<p>There were several boats, and selecting a
small cedar one, Winthrop assisted Patty in,
sprang in himself, and pushed off.
</p>
<p>“If it’s Christmas, we ought to be going
skating on the lake, instead of rowing,” said
Patty.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span></p>
<p>“It isn’t Christmas now,” said Winthrop,
“You get your holidays mixed up. We’ve come
out here to celebrate Independence Day. See
what I’ve brought.”
</p>
<p>From his pockets the young man produced
several packs of firecrackers.
</p>
<p>“What fun!” cried Patty, “I feel as if I
were a child again. Let me set some off. Have
you any punk?”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Winthrop, gravely producing
some short sticks of punk from another pocket;
and lighting one, he gave it to Patty.
</p>
<p>“But how can I set them off?” said Patty,
“I’m afraid to have them in the boat, and we
can’t throw them out on the water.”
</p>
<p>“We’ll manage this way,” said Winthrop,
and drawing one of the oars into the boat, he
laid a lighted firecracker on the blade and
pushed it out again. The firecracker went off
with a bang, and in great glee Patty pulled in
the other oar and tried the same plan.
</p>
<p>Then they set off a whole pack at once, and
as the length of the oar was not quite sufficient
for safety Winthrop let it slip from the row-lock
and float away on the water. As he had
previously tied a string to the handle so that he
could pull the oar back at will, this was a great
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span>
game, and the floating oar with its freight of
snapping firecrackers provided much amusement.
The noise of the explosions brought the
others running to the scene, and three or four
more boats were soon out on the lake. Firecrackers
went snapping in every direction, and
torpedoes were thrown from one boat to another
until the ammunition was exhausted.
</p>
<p>Then the merry crowd trooped back to the
house for luncheon.
</p>
<p>“I never had such a lovely Fourth of July,”
said Patty to her kind hostess. “Everything is
different from anything I ever did before. This
house is just like Fairyland. You never know
what is going to happen next.”
</p>
<p>After luncheon the party broke up in various
small groups. Some of the more energetic ones
played golf or tennis, but Patty declared it was
too warm for any unnecessary exertion.
</p>
<p>“Come for a little walk with me,” said
Roger, “we’ll walk down in the grove; it’s cool
and shady there, and we can play mumblety-peg
if you like.”
</p>
<p>“I’ll go to the grove,” said Patty, “but I
don’t want to play anything. This is a day just
to be idle and enjoy living, without doing anything
else.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></p>
<p>They strolled down toward the grove, and
were joined on the way by Bertha and Mr.
Phelps, who were just returning from a call
on Abiram.
</p>
<p>“I think Abiram ought to come to the Christmas
party to-night,” said Bertha, “I know he’d
enjoy seeing the tree lighted up.”
</p>
<p>“He shall come,” said Dick Phelps, “I’ll
bring him myself.”
</p>
<p>“Do,” said Patty, “and we’ll tie a red ribbon
round his neck with a sprig of holly, and
I’ll see to it that there’s a present on the tree
for him.”
</p>
<p>The quartet walked on to the grove, and
sat down on the ground under the pine trees.
</p>
<p>“I feel very patriotic,” said Patty, who was
decorated with several small flags which she had
stuck in her hair, and in her belt, “and
I think we ought to sing some national anthems.”
</p>
<p>So they sang “The Star-Spangled Banner,”
and other patriotic airs, until they were interrupted
by Winthrop and Elise who came toward
them singing a Christmas carol.
</p>
<p>“I asked you to come here,” said Roger
aside, to Patty, “because I wanted to see you
alone for a minute, and now all these other
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span>
people have come and spoiled my plan. Come
on over to the orchard, will you?”
</p>
<p>“Of course I will,” said Patty jumping up,
“what is the secret you have to tell me? Some
plan for to-night?”
</p>
<p>“No,” said Roger, hesitating a little, “that
is, yes,—not exactly.”
</p>
<p>They had walked away from the others, and
Roger took from his pocket a tiny box which
he offered to Patty.
</p>
<p>“I wanted to give you a little Christmas present,”
he said, “as a sort of memento of this
jolly day; and I thought maybe you’d wear it
to-night.”
</p>
<p>“How lovely!” cried Patty, as she opened
the box and saw a little pin shaped like a spray
of holly. “It’s perfectly sweet. Thank you
ever so much, Roger, but why didn’t you put it
on the tree for me?”
</p>
<p>“Oh, they are only having foolish presents
on the tree, jokes, you know, and all that.”
</p>
<p>“Oh, is this a real present then? I don’t
know as I ought to accept it. I’ve never had
a present from a young man before.”
</p>
<p>Roger looked a little embarrassed, but Patty’s
gay delight was entirely free from any trace of
self-consciousness.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span></p>
<p>“Anyway, I am going to keep it,” she said,
“because it’s so pretty, and I like to think that
you gave it to me.”
</p>
<p>Roger looked greatly gratified and seemed to
take the matter with more seriousness than Patty
did. She pinned the pretty little trinket on her
collar and thought no more about it.
</p>
<p>Dinner was early that night, for there was
much to be done in the way of final preparations
before the guests came to the Christmas party.
</p>
<p>The Christmas pretence was intended as a surprise
to those not staying in the house, and after
all had arrived, the doors of the library were
thrown open with shouts of “Merry Christmas!”
</p>
<p>And indeed it did seem like a sudden transition
back into the winter. The Christmas tree
with its gay decorations and lighted candles was
a beautiful sight, and the green-trimmed room
with its spicy odours of spruce and pine intensified
the illusion.
</p>
<p>Shouts of delight went up on all sides, and
falling quickly into the spirit of it all, the guests
at once began to pretend it was really Christmas,
and greeted each other with appropriate
good wishes.
</p>
<p>Mischievous Patty had slyly tied a sprig of
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span>
mistletoe to the chandelier, and Dick Phelps by
a clever manœuvre had succeeded in getting
Mrs. Warner to stand under it. The good lady
was quite unaware of their plans, and when Mr.
Phelps kissed her soundly on her plump cheek
she was decidedly surprised.
</p>
<p>But the explanation amply justified his audacity,
and Mrs. Warner laughingly declared
that she would resign her place to some of the
younger ladies.
</p>
<p>The greatest fun came when Winthrop distributed
the presents from the tree. None of
them was expensive or valuable, but most of
them were clever, merry little jokes which good-naturedly
teased the recipients.
</p>
<p>True to his word Mr. Phelps brought
Abiram in, leading him by his long chain. Patty
had tied a red ribbon round his neck with a
huge bow, and had further dressed him up in a
paper cap which she had taken from a German
cracker motto.
</p>
<p>Abiram received a stick of candy as his gift,
and was as much pleased, apparently, as the rest
of the party.
</p>
<p>Many of the presents were accompanied by
little verses or lines of doggerel, and the reading
of these caused much merriment and laughter.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span></p>
<p>After the presentations, supper was served,
and here Mrs. Warner had provided her part
of the surprise.
</p>
<p>Not even those staying in the house knew of
their hostess’ plans, and when they all trooped
out to the dining-room, a real Christmas feast
awaited them.
</p>
<p>The long table was decorated with red ribbons
and holly, and red candles with red paper
shades. Christmas bells hung above the table,
and at each plate were appropriate souvenirs.
In the centre of the table was a tiny Christmas
tree with lighted candles, a miniature copy of
the one they had just left.
</p>
<p>Even the viands partook of the Christmas
character, and from roast turkey to plum pudding
no detail was spared to make it a true
Christmas feast.
</p>
<p>The young people did full justice to Mrs.
Warner’s hospitality, and warmly appreciated
the kind thoughtfulness which had made the
supper so attractive in every way.
</p>
<p>Then they adjourned to the parlour for informal
dancing, and wound up the party with
an old-fashioned Virginia reel, which was led
by Mr. and Mrs. Warner.
</p>
<p>Mr. Warner was a most genial host and his
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span>
merry quips and repartee kept the young people
laughing gaily.
</p>
<p>When at last the guests departed, it was with
assurances that they had never had such a delightful
Christmas party, even in midwinter,
and had never had such a delightful Fourth of
July party, even in midsummer.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XVIII_AT_SANDY_COVE' id='XVIII_AT_SANDY_COVE'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
<h3>AT SANDY COVE</h3>
</div>
<p>When the day came for Patty and
Elise to leave Pine Branches, everyone
concerned was truly sorry. Elise
had long been a favourite with the Warners,
and they had grown to love Patty quite as well.
</p>
<p>Roger was still there, and Mr. and Mrs. Farrington
came for the young people in their
motor-car. They were returning from a most
interesting trip, which had extended as far as
Portland. After hearing some accounts of it,
Patty felt sure that she would have enjoyed it;
but then she had also greatly enjoyed her visit
at Pine Branches, and she felt sure that it had
been better for her physically than the exertion
and excitement of the motor-trip.
</p>
<p>Besides this, the Farringtons assured her that
there would be many other opportunities for her
to go touring with them, and they would always
be glad to have her.
</p>
<p>So one bright morning, soon after the Fourth
of July, The Fact started off again with its
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span>
original party. They made the trip to New
York entirely without accident or mishap of any
kind, which greatly pleased Roger, as it demonstrated
that The Fact was not always a stubborn
thing.
</p>
<p>Patty was to spend the months of July and
August with her father and Nan, who had
rented a house on Long Island. The house was
near the Barlows’ summer home at Sandy Cove,
for Nan had thought it would be pleasant to be
near her friends, who were also Patty’s relatives.
</p>
<p>Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield had already gone to
Long Island, and the Farringtons were to take
Patty over there in the motor-car.
</p>
<p>So, after staying a day or two with Elise in
New York, Patty again took her place in the
car for the journey to her new home. Mr. Farrington
and Elise went with her, and after seeing
her safely in her father’s care, returned to
the city that same day.
</p>
<p>Patty was glad to see her father and Nan
again, and was delighted with the beautiful
house which they had taken for the summer.
</p>
<p>“How large it is!” she exclaimed, as she
looked about her. “We three people will be
lost in it!”
</p>
<p>“We’re going to have a lot of company,”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span>
said Nan, “I’ve invited nearly everyone I know,
and I shall expect you to help me entertain
them.”
</p>
<p>“Gladly,” said Patty; “there are no horrid
lessons in the way now, and you may command
my full time and attention.”
</p>
<p>The day after Patty’s return to her family,
she proposed that they go over to see the Barlows.
</p>
<p>“It’s an awful hot afternoon,” said Nan,
“but I suppose we can’t be any warmer there
than here.”
</p>
<p>So arraying themselves in fresh, cool white
dresses, Nan and Patty started to make their
call.
</p>
<p>The Barlows’ summer place was called the
Hurly-Burly, and as Nan and Patty both knew,
the name described the house extremely well.
</p>
<p>As Bob Barlow sometimes said, the motto of
their home seemed to be, “No place for nothin’,
and nothin’ in its place.”
</p>
<p>But as the family had lived up to this principle
for many years, it was not probable things
would ever be any different with them, and it
did not prevent their being a delightful family,
while their vagaries often proved extremely entertaining.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span></p>
<p>But when Nan and Patty neared the house
they saw no sign of anybody about.
</p>
<p>The doors and windows were all open and
the visitors walked in, looked in the various
rooms, and even went upstairs, but found nobody
anywhere.
</p>
<p>“I’ll look in the kitchen,” said Patty; “surely
old Hopalong, the cook, will be there. They
can’t all be away, and the house all open like
this.”
</p>
<p>But the kitchen too, was deserted, and Nan
said, “Well, let us sit on the front verandah a
while; it must be that somebody will come home
soon, and anyway I’m too warm and tired to
walk right back in the broiling sun.”
</p>
<p>So they sat on the verandah for half an hour,
and then Patty said, “Let’s give one more look
inside the house, and if we can’t find anybody
let’s go home.”
</p>
<p>“All right,” said Nan, and in they went,
through the vacant rooms, and again to the
kitchen.
</p>
<p>“Why, there’s Hopalong,” said Patty, as
she saw the old coloured woman busy about her
work, though indeed Hopalong’s slow movements
could not be accurately described by the
word busy.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span></p>
<p>“Hello, Hopalong,” said Patty, “where are
all the people?”
</p>
<p>“Bless yo’ heart Miss Patty, chile, how yo’done skeered me! And howdy, Miss Nan,—’scuse
me, I should say Missus Fairfield. De
ladies is at home, and I ’spects dey’ll be mighty
glad to see you folks.”
</p>
<p>“Where are they, then?” said Nan, looking
puzzled, “we can’t find them.”
</p>
<p>“Well yo’ see it’s a mighty hot day, and dem
Barlows is mighty fond of bein’ as comf’able as
possible. I’m makin’ dis yere lemonade for ’em,
kase dey likes a coolin’ drink. I’ll jest squeeze
in another lemon or two, and there’ll be plenty
for you, too.”
</p>
<p>“But where are they, Hopalong?” asked
Patty, “are they outdoors, down by the
brook?”
</p>
<p>“Laws no, Miss Patty, I done forgot to tell
yo’ whar dey am, but dey’s down in de cellah.”
</p>
<p>“In the cellar!” said Patty, “what for?”
</p>
<p>“So’s dey kin be cool, chile. Jes’ you trot
along down, and see for yourselfs.”
</p>
<p>Hopalong threw open the door that led from
the kitchen to the cellar stairs, and holding up
their dainty white skirts, Patty and Nan started
down the rather dark staircase.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span></p>
<p>“Look at those white shoes coming downstairs,”
they heard Bumble’s voice cry; “I do
believe it’s Nan and Patty!”
</p>
<p>“It certainly is,” said Patty, and as she
reached the last step, she looked around in astonishment,
and then burst into laughter.
</p>
<p>“Well, you do beat all!” she said, “We’ve
been sitting on the front verandah half an hour,
wondering where you could be.”
</p>
<p>“Isn’t it nice?” said Mrs. Barlow, after she
had greeted her guests.
</p>
<p>“It is indeed,” said Patty, “it’s the greatest
scheme I ever heard of.”
</p>
<p>The cellar, which had been recently white-washed,
had been converted into a funny sort of
a sitting-room. On the floor was spread a large
white floor-cloth, whose original use had been
for a dancing crash.
</p>
<p>The chairs and sofas were all of wicker, and
though in various stages of dilapidation, were
cool and comfortable. A table in the center
was covered with a white cloth, and the sofa
pillows were in white ruffled cases.
</p>
<p>Bumble explained that the intent was to have
everything white, but they hadn’t been able to
carry out that idea fully, as they had so few
white things.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span></p>
<p>“The cat is all right,” said Patty, looking at
a large white cat that lay curled up on a white
fur rug.
</p>
<p>“Yes, isn’t she a beautiful cat? Her name
is The Countess, and when she’s awake, she’s
exceedingly aristocratic and dignified looking,
but she’s almost never awake. Oh, here comes
Hopalong, with our lemonade.”
</p>
<p>The old negro lumbered down the steps, and
Bumble took the tray from her, and setting it
on the table, served the guests to iced lemonade
and tiny thin cakes of Hopalong’s concoction.
</p>
<p>“Now isn’t this nice?” said Mrs. Barlow,
as they sat chatting and feasting; “you see how
cool and comfortable it is, although it’s so warm
out of doors. I dare say I shall get rheumatism,
as it seems a little damp here, but when
I feel it coming on, I’m going to move my chair
over onto that fur rug, and then I think there
will be no danger.”
</p>
<p>“It is delightfully cool,” said Patty, “and
I think it a most ingenious idea. If we had only
known sooner that you were here, though, we
could have had a much longer visit.”
</p>
<p>“It’s so fortunate,” said Bumble, whom
Patty couldn’t remember to call Helen, “that
you chanced to be dressed in white. You fit
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span>
right in to the colour scheme. Mother and I
meant to wear white down here, but all our
white frocks have gone to the laundry. But if
you’ll come over again after a day or two, we’ll
have this place all fixed up fine. You see we
only thought of it this morning. It was so unbearably
hot, we really had to do something.”
</p>
<p>Soon Uncle Ted and Bob came in, and after
a while Mr. Fairfield arrived.
</p>
<p>The merry party still stayed in the cellar
room, and one and all pronounced it a most
clever idea for a hot day.
</p>
<p>The Barlows were delighted that the Fairfields
were to be near them for the summer, and
many good times were planned for.
</p>
<p>Patty was very fond of her Barlow cousins,
but after returning to her own home, which
Nan with the special pride of a young housekeeper,
kept in the daintiest possible order,
Patty declared that she was glad her father had
chosen a wife who had the proper ideas of managing
a house.
</p>
<p>Nan and Patty were congenial in their tastes
and though Patty had had some experience in
housekeeping, she was quite willing to accept
any innovations that Nan might suggest.
</p>
<p>“Indeed,” she said, “I am only too glad not
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span>
to have any of the care and responsibility of
keeping house, and I propose to enjoy an idle
summer after my hard year in school.”
</p>
<p>So the days passed rapidly and happily.
There were many guests at the house, and as the
Fairfields were rather well acquainted with the
summer people at Sandy Cove, they received
many invitations to entertainments of various
kinds.
</p>
<p>The Farringtons often came down in their
motor-car and made a flying visit, or took the
Fairfields for a ride, and Patty hoped that the
Warners would visit them before the summer
was over.
</p>
<p>One day Mr. Phelps appeared unexpectedly,
and from nowhere in particular. He came in
his big racing-car, and that day Patty chanced
to be the only one of the family at home. He
invited her to go for a short ride with him, saying
they could easily be back by dinner time,
when the others were expected home.
</p>
<p>Glad of the opportunity, Patty ran for her
automobile coat and hood, and soon they were
flying along the country roads.
</p>
<p>Part of the time they went at a mad rate of
speed, and part of the time they went slower,
that they might converse more easily.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span></p>
<p>As they went somewhat slowly past a piece
of woods, Patty gave a sudden exclamation, and
declared that she saw what looked like a baby
or a young child wrapped in a blanket and lying
on the ground.
</p>
<p>Her face expressed such horror-stricken anxiety,
as she thought that possibly the child had
been abandoned and left there purposely, that
Mr. Phelps consented to go back and investigate
the matter, although he really thought she was
mistaken in thinking it was a child at all.
</p>
<p>He turned his machine, and in a moment they
were back at the place.
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps jumped from the car, and ran
into the wood where Patty pointed.
</p>
<p>Sure enough, under a tree lay a baby, perhaps
a year old, fairly well dressed and with a
pretty smiling face.
</p>
<p>He called to Patty and she joined him where
he stood looking at the child.
</p>
<p>“Why, bless your heart!” cried Patty, picking
the little one up, “what are you doing here
all alone?”
</p>
<p>The baby cooed and smiled, dimpling its little
face and caressing Patty’s cheeks with its
fat little hands. A heavy blanket had been
spread on the ground for the child to lie on,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span>
and around its little form was pinned a lighter
blanket with the name Rosabel embroidered on
one corner.
</p>
<p>“So that’s your name, is it?” said Patty.
“Well, Rosabel, I’d like to know where you belong
and what you’re doing here. Do you suppose,”
she said, turning an indignant face to
Mr. Phelps, “that anybody deliberately put this
child here and deserted it?”
</p>
<p>“I’m afraid that’s what has happened,” said
Mr. Phelps, who really couldn’t think of any
other explanation.
</p>
<p>They looked all around, but nobody was in
sight to whom the child might possibly belong.
</p>
<p>“I can’t go away and leave her here,” said
Patty, “the dear little thing, what shall we do
with her?”
</p>
<p>“It is a mighty hard case,” said Mr. Phelps,
who was nonplussed himself. He was a most
gentle-hearted man, and could not bear the
thought of leaving the child there alone in the
woods, and it was already nearing sundown.
</p>
<p>“We might take it along with us,” he said,
“and enquire at the nearest house.”
</p>
<p>“There’s no house in sight,” said Patty, looking
about. “Well, there are only two things
to choose from; to stay here in hope that somebody
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span>
will come along, who knows something
about this baby, or else assume that she really
has been deserted and take her home with us,
for the night at least. I simply won’t go off
and leave her here, and if there was anybody
here in charge of her they must have shown up
by this time.”
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps could see no use in waiting there
any longer, and though it seemed absurd to
carry the child off with them, there really
seemed nothing else to do.
</p>
<p>So with a last look around, hoping to see
somebody, but seeing no one, Patty climbed into
the car and sitting in the front seat beside Mr.
Phelps, held the baby in her lap.
</p>
<p>“She’s awfully cunning,” she declared, “and
such a pretty baby! Whoever abandoned this
child ought to be fearfully punished in some
way.”
</p>
<p>“I can’t think she was abandoned,” said Mr.
Phelps, but as he couldn’t think of any other
reason for the baby being there alone, he was
forced to accept the desertion theory.
</p>
<p>Having decided to take the baby with them,
they sped along home, and drew up in front of
the house to find Nan and Mr. Fairfield on the
verandah.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></p>
<p>“Why, how do you do, Mr. Phelps?” cried
Nan. “We’re very glad to see you. Come in.
For gracious goodness’ sake, Patty, what have
you got there?”
</p>
<p>“This is Rosabel,” said Patty, gravely, as
she held the baby up to view.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XIX_ROSABEL' id='XIX_ROSABEL'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
<h3>ROSABEL</h3>
</div>
<p>“Rosabel who?” exclaimed Nan, as
Patty came up on the verandah with the
baby in her arms.
</p>
<p>“I don’t know, I’m sure. You may call her
Rosabel anything you like. We picked her up
by the wayside.”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Dick Phelps, who had followed
Patty up the steps. “Miss Rosabel seemed
lonely without anyone to talk to, so we brought
her back here to visit you.”
</p>
<p>“You must be crazy!” cried Nan, “but what
a cunning baby it is! Let me take her.”
</p>
<p>Nan took the good-natured little midget and
sat down in a verandah rocker, with the baby
in her arms.
</p>
<p>“Tell a straight story, Patty,” said her
father, “is it one of the neighbour’s children,
or did you kidnap it?”
</p>
<p>“Neither,” said Patty, turning to her father;
“we found the baby lying right near the edge
of a wood, in plain sight from the road. And
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span>
there was nobody around, and Papa, I just
know that the child’s wretch of a mother deserted
it, and left it there to die!”
</p>
<p>“Nonsense,” said her father. “Mothers
don’t leave their little ones around as carelessly
as that.”
</p>
<p>“Well, what else could it be?” said Patty.
“There was the baby all alone, smiling and
talking to herself, and no one anywhere near,
although we waited for some time.”
</p>
<p>“It does seem strange,” said Mr. Fairfield,
“perhaps the mother did mean to desert the
child, but if so, she was probably peeping from
some hiding-place, to make sure that she approved
of the people who took it.”
</p>
<p>“Well,” said Mr. Phelps, “she evidently
thought we were all right; at any rate she made
no objection.”
</p>
<p>“But isn’t it awful,” said Nan, “to think of
anybody deserting a dear little thing like this.
Why, the wild animals might have eaten her
up.”
</p>
<p>“Of course they might,” said Mr. Phelps,
gravely, “the tigers and wolves that abound on
Long Island are of the most ferocious type.”
</p>
<p>“Well, anyway,” said Patty, “something
dreadful might have happened to her.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span></p>
<p>“It may yet,” said Mr. Phelps cheerfully,
“when we take her back to-morrow and put her
in the place we found her. For I don’t suppose
you intend to keep Miss Rosabel, do you?”
</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” said Patty, “but I know one
thing, we certainly won’t put her back where we
found her. What shall we do with her, Papa?”
</p>
<p>“I don’t know, my child, she’s your find, and
I suppose it’s a case of ‘findings is keepings.’”
</p>
<p>“Of course we can’t keep her,” said Patty,
“how ridiculous! We’ll have to put her in an
orphan asylum or something like that.”
</p>
<p>“It’s a shame,” said Nan, “to put this dear
little mite in a horrid old asylum. I think I
shall adopt her myself.”
</p>
<p>Little Rosabel had begun to grow restless,
and suddenly without a word of warning she
began to cry lustily, and not a quiet well-conducted
cry either, but with ear-splitting shrieks
and yells, indicative of great discomfort of some
sort.
</p>
<p>“I’ve changed my mind,” said Nan, abruptly.
“I don’t want to adopt any such noisy young
person as that. Here, take her, Patty, she’s your
property.”
</p>
<p>Patty took the baby, and carried her into the
house, fearing that passers-by would think they
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span>
must be torturing the child to make her scream
like that.
</p>
<p>Into the dining-room went Patty, and on to
the kitchen, where she announced to the astonished
cook that she wanted some milk for
the baby and she wanted it quick.
</p>
<p>“Is there company for dinner, Miss Patty?”
asked the cook, not understanding how a baby
could have arrived as an only guest.
</p>
<p>“Only this one,” said Patty, laughing, “what
do you think she ought to eat?”
</p>
<p>“Bread and milk,” said the cook, looking at
the child with a judicial air.
</p>
<p>“All right, Kate, fix her some, won’t you?”
</p>
<p>In a few moments Patty was feeding Rosabel
bread and milk, which the child ate eagerly.
</p>
<p>Impelled by curiosity, Nan came tip-toeing to
the kitchen, followed by the two men.
</p>
<p>“I thought she must be asleep,” said Nan,
“as the concert seems to have stopped.”
</p>
<p>“Not at all,” said Patty, calmly, “she was
only hungry, and the fact seemed to occur to
her somewhat suddenly.”
</p>
<p>Little Rosabel, all smiles again, looked up
from her supper with such bewitching glances
that Nan cried out, “Oh, she is a darling! Let
me help you feed her, Patty.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span></p>
<p>In fact they all succumbed to the charm of
their uninvited guest. During dinner Rosabel
sat at the table, in a chair filled with pillows,
and was made happy by being given many
dainty bits of various delicacies, until Nan declared
the child would certainly be ill.
</p>
<p>“I don’t believe she is more than a year old,”
said Nan, “and she’s probably unaccustomed to
those rich cakes and bonbons.”
</p>
<p>“I think she’s more than a year,” said Patty,
sagely, “and anyway, I want her to have a good
time for once.”
</p>
<p>“She seems to be having the time of her life,”
said Dick Phelps, as he watched the baby, who
with a macaroon in one hand, and some candied
cherries in the other, was smiling impartially
on them all.
</p>
<p>“She’s not much of a conversationalist,” remarked
Mr. Fairfield.
</p>
<p>“Give her time,” said Patty, “she feels a
little strange at first.”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Phelps, “I think after
two or three years she’ll be much more talkative.”
</p>
<p>“Well, there’s one thing certain,” said Patty,
“she’ll have to stay here to-night, whatever we
do with her to-morrow.”
</p>
<div class='figcenter'>
<a name='linki_5' id='linki_5'></a>
<img src='images/illus5.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
<p class='caption' style='text-align:center;'>
“In a few minutes Patty was feeding Rosabel bread and milk”
<br />
</p>
</div>
<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span></div>
<p>After dinner they took their new toy with
them to the parlour, and Miss Rosabel treated
them all to a few more winning smiles, and then
quietly, but very decidedly fell asleep in Patty’s
arms.
</p>
<p>“I can’t help admiring her decision of character,”
said Patty, as she shook the baby to make
her awaken, but without success.
</p>
<p>“Don’t wake her up,” said Nan. “Come,
Patty, we’ll take her upstairs, and put her to
bed somewhere.”
</p>
<p>This feat being accomplished, Nan and Patty
rejoined the men, who sat smoking on the front
verandah.
</p>
<p>“Now,” said Patty, “we really must decide
what we’re going to do with that infant; for I
warn you, Papa Fairfield, that if we keep that
dear baby around much longer, I shall become
so attached to her that I can’t give her up.”
</p>
<p>“Of course,” said Mr. Fairfield, “she must
be turned over to the authorities. I’ll attend
to it the first thing in the morning.”
</p>
<p>A little later Mr. Fairfield and Nan strolled
down the road to make a call on a neighbour,
and Patty and Dick Phelps remained at home.
</p>
<p>Patty had declared she wouldn’t leave the
house lest Rosabel should waken and cry out,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span>
so promising to make but a short call, Mr. Fairfield
and Nan went away.
</p>
<p>Soon after they had gone, a strange young
man came walking toward the house. He turned
in at the gate and approached the front steps.
</p>
<p>“Is this Mr. Richard Phelps?” he asked,
addressing himself to Dick.
</p>
<p>“It is; what can I do for you?”
</p>
<p>“Do you own a large black racing automobile?”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” replied Mr. Phelps.
</p>
<p>“And were you out in it this afternoon,”
continued the stranger, “driving rapidly between
here and North Point?”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Phelps again, wondering
what was the intent of this peculiar interview.
</p>
<p>“Then you’re the man I’m after,” declared
the stranger, “and I’m obliged to tell you, sir,
that you are under arrest.”
</p>
<p>“For what offence?” enquired Mr. Phelps,
rather amused at what he considered a good
joke, and thinking that it must be a case of mistaken
identity somehow.
</p>
<p>“For kidnapping little Mary Brown,” was
the astonishing reply.
</p>
<p>“Why, we didn’t kidnap her at all!” exclaimed
Patty, breaking into the conversation.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span>
“The idea, to think we would kidnap a baby!
and anyway her name isn’t Mary, it’s Rosabel.”
</p>
<p>“Then you know where the child is, Miss,”
said the man, turning to Patty.
</p>
<p>“Of course I do,” said Patty, “she’s upstairs
asleep. But it isn’t Mary Brown at all.
It’s Rosabel,—I don’t know what her last name
is.”
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps began to be interested.
</p>
<p>“What makes you think we kidnapped a
baby, my friend?” he said to their visitor.
</p>
<p>The man looked as if he had begun to think
there must be a mistake somewhere. “Why,
you see, sir,” he said, “Mrs. Brown, she’s just
about crazy. Her little girl, Sarah, went out
into the woods this afternoon, and took the baby,
Mary, with her. The baby went to sleep, and
Sarah left it lying on a blanket under a tree,
while she roamed around the wood picking blueberries.
Somehow she strayed away farther than
she intended and lost her way. When she finally
managed to get back to the place where she left
the baby, the child was gone, and she says she
could see a large automobile going swiftly away,
and the lady who sat in the front seat was holding
little Mary. Sarah screamed, and called
after you, but the car only went on more and
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span>
more rapidly, and was soon lost to sight. I’m
a detective, sir, and I looked carefully at the
wheel tracks in the dust, and I asked a few questions
here and there, and I hit upon some several
clues, and here I am. Now I’d like you
to explain, sir, if you didn’t kidnap that child,
what you do call it?”
</p>
<p>“Why, it was a rescue,” cried Patty, indignantly,
without giving Mr. Phelps time to reply.
“The dear little baby was all alone in the wood,
and anything might have happened to her. Her
mother had no business to let her be taken care
of by a sister that couldn’t take care of her any
better than that! We waited for some time,
and nobody appeared, so we picked up the child
and brought her home, rather than leave her
there alone. But I don’t believe it’s the child
you’re after anyway, for the name Rosabel is
embroidered on the blanket.”
</p>
<p>“It is the same child, Miss,” said the man,
who somehow seemed a little crestfallen because
his kidnapping case proved to be only in his own
imagination. “Mrs. Brown described to me the
clothes the baby wore, and she said that blanket
was given to her by a rich lady who had a
little girl named Rosabel. The Browns are poor
people, ma’am, and the mother is a hard-working
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span>
woman, and she’s nearly crazed with grief
about the baby.”
</p>
<p>“I should think she would be,” said Patty,
whose quick sympathies had already flown to
the sorrowing mother. “She oughtn’t to have
left an irresponsible child in charge of the little
thing. But it’s dreadful to think how anxious
she must be! Now I’ll tell you what we’ll do;
Mr. Phelps, if you’ll get out your car, I’ll just
bundle that child up and we’ll take her right
straight back home to her mother. We’ll stop
at the Ripleys’ for Papa and Nan, and we’ll
all go over together. It’s a lovely moonlight
night for a drive, anyway, and even if it were
pitch dark, or pouring in torrents, I should want
to get that baby back to her mother just as
quickly as possible. I don’t wonder the poor
woman is distracted.”
</p>
<p>“Very well,” said Mr. Phelps, who would
have driven his car to Kamschatka if Patty had
asked him to, “and we’ll take this gentleman
along with us, to direct us to Mrs. Brown’s.”
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps went for his car, and Patty flew
to bundle up the baby. She did not dress the
child, but wrapped her in a warm blanket, and
then in a fur-lined cape of her own. Then making
a bundle of the baby’s clothes, she presented
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span>
herself at the door, just as Mr. Phelps drove up
with his splendid great car shining in the moonlight.
</p>
<p>A few moments’ pause was sufficient to gather
in Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield, and away they all
flew through the night, to Mrs. Brown’s humble
cottage.
</p>
<p>They found the poor woman not only grieving
about the loss of her child, but angry and
revengeful against the lady and gentleman in
the motor-car, who, she thought, had stolen it.
</p>
<p>And so when the car stopped in front of her
door, she came running out followed by her
husband and several children.
</p>
<p>Little Sarah recognised the car, which was
unusual in size and shape, and cried out,
“That’s the one, that’s the one, mother! and
those are the people who stole Mary!”
</p>
<p>But the young detective, whose name was Mr.
Faulks, sprang out of the car and began to explain
matters to the astonished family. Then
Patty handed out the baby, and the grief of
the Browns was quickly turned to rejoicing,
mingled with apologies.
</p>
<p>Mr. Fairfield explained further to the somewhat
bewildered mother, and leaving with her
a substantial present of money as an evidence of
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span>
good faith in the matter, he returned to his
place in the car, and in a moment they were
whizzing back toward home.
</p>
<p>“I’m glad it all turned out right,” said Patty
with a sigh, “but I do wish that pretty baby had
been named Rosabel instead of Mary. It really
would have suited her a great deal better.”
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XX_THE_ROLANDS' id='XX_THE_ROLANDS'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2>
<h3>THE ROLANDS</h3>
</div>
<p>“There’s a new family in that house
across the road,” said Mr. Fairfield
one evening at dinner.
</p>
<p>“The Fenwick house?” asked Nan.
</p>
<p>“Yes; a man named Roland has taken it for
August. I know a man who knows them, and
he says they’re charming people. So, if you
ladies want to be neighbourly, you might call
on them.”
</p>
<p>Nan and Patty went to call and found the
Roland family very pleasant people, indeed.
Mrs. Roland seemed to be an easy-going sort of
lady who never took any trouble herself, and
never expected anyone else to do so.
</p>
<p>Miss Roland, Patty decided, was a rather inanimate
young person, and showed a lack of
energy so at variance with Patty’s tastes that
she confided to Nan on the way home she certainly
did not expect to cultivate any such lackadaisical
girl as that.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span></p>
<p>As for young Mr. Roland, the son of the
house, Patty had great ado to keep from laughing
outright at him. He was of the foppish
sort, and though young and rather callow, he
assumed airs of great importance, and addressed
Patty with a formal deference, as if she were a
young lady in society, instead of a schoolgirl.
</p>
<p>Patty was accustomed to frank, pleasant comradeship
with the boys of her acquaintance; and
the young men, such as Mr. Hepworth and Mr.
Phelps, treated Patty as a little girl, and never
seemed to imply anything like grown-up attentions.
</p>
<p>But young Mr. Roland, with an affected
drawl, and what were meant to be killing
glances of admiration, so conducted himself that
Patty’s sense of humour was stirred, and she
mischievously led him on for the fun of seeing
what he would do next.
</p>
<p>The result was that young Mr. Roland was
much pleased with pretty Patty, and fully believed
that his own charms had made a decided
impression on her.
</p>
<p>He asked permission to call, whereupon Patty
told him that she was only a schoolgirl, and did
not receive calls from young men, but referred
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span>
him to Mrs. Fairfield, and Nan being in an
amiable mood, kindly gave him the desired permission.
</p>
<p>“Well,” said Patty, as they discussed the
matter afterward, “if that young puff-ball rolls
himself over here, you can have the pleasure of
entertaining him. I’m quite ready to admit that
another season of his conversation would affect
my mind.”
</p>
<p>“Nonsense,” said Nan, carelessly, “you can’t
expect every young man to be as interesting as
Mr. Hepworth, or as companionable as Kenneth
Harper.”
</p>
<p>“I don’t,” said Patty, “but I don’t have to
bore myself to death talking to them, if I don’t
like them.”
</p>
<p>“No,” said Nan, “but you must be polite
and amiable to everybody. That’s part of the
penalty of being an attractive young woman.”
</p>
<p>“All right,” said Patty, “since that’s the way
you look at it, you surely can’t have any objection
to receiving Mr. Roland if he calls, for I
warn you that I shan’t appear.”
</p>
<p>But it so happened that when a caller came
one afternoon, Nan was not at home, and Patty
was.
</p>
<p>The maid brought the card to Patty, who was
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span>
reading in her own room, and when she looked
at it and saw the name of Mr. Charles Roland
upon it, she exclaimed in dismay.
</p>
<p>“I don’t want to go down,” she said, “I wish
he hadn’t come.”
</p>
<p>“It’s a lady, Miss Patty,” said the girl.
</p>
<p>“A lady?” said Patty, wonderingly, “why
this is a gentleman’s card.”
</p>
<p>“Yes, ma’am, I know it, but it’s a lady that
called. She’s down in the parlour, waiting, and
that’s the card she gave me. She’s a large lady,
Miss Patty, with greyish hair, and she seems
in a terrible fluster.”
</p>
<p>“Very mysterious,” said Patty, “but I’ll go
down and see what it’s all about.”
</p>
<p>Patty went down to the parlour, and found
Mrs. Roland there. She did indeed look bewildered,
and as soon as Patty entered the room
she began to talk volubly.
</p>
<p>“Excuse my rushing over like this, my dear,”
she said, “but I am in such trouble, and I wonder
if you won’t help me out. We’re neighbours,
you know, and I’m sure I’d do as much
for you. I asked for Mrs. Fairfield, but she
isn’t at home, so I asked for you.”
</p>
<p>“But the card you sent up had Mr. Charles
Roland’s name on it,” said Patty, smiling.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span></p>
<p>“Oh, my dear, is that so? What a mistake
to make! You see I carry Charlie’s cards
around with my own, and I must have sent the
wrong one. I’m so nearsighted I can’t see anything
without my glasses, anyway, and my
glasses are always lost.”
</p>
<p>Patty felt sorry for the old lady, who seemed
in such a bewildered state, and she said, “No
matter about the card, Mrs. Roland, what can
I do for you?”
</p>
<p>“Why it’s just this,” said her visitor. “I
want to borrow your house. Just for the night,
I’ll return it to-morrow in perfect order.”
</p>
<p>“Borrow this house?” repeated Patty, wondering
if her guest were really sane.
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Mrs. Roland; “now wait, and
I’ll tell you all about it. I’m expecting some
friends to dinner and to stay over night, and
would you believe it, just now of all days in the
year, the tank has burst and the water is dripping
down all through the house. We can’t
seem to do anything to stop it. The ceilings
had fallen in three rooms when I came away,
and I dare say the rest of them are down by this
time. And my friends are very particular people,
and awfully exclusive. I wouldn’t like to
take them to the hotel; and I don’t think it’s
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span>
a very nice hotel anyway, and so I thought if
you’d just lend me this house over night, I could
bring my friends right here, and as they leave
to-morrow morning, it wouldn’t be long, you
know. And truly I don’t see what else I can
do.”
</p>
<p>“But what would become of our family?”
said Patty, who was greatly amused at the unconventional
request.
</p>
<p>“Why, you could go to our house,” said Mrs.
Roland dubiously; “that is, if any of the ceilings
will stay up over night; or,” she added, her
face brightening, “couldn’t you go to the hotel
yourselves? Of course, it isn’t a nice place to
entertain guests, but it does very well for one’s
own family. Oh, Miss Fairfield, please help
me out! Truly I’d do as much for you if the
case were reversed.”
</p>
<p>Although the request was unusual, Mrs. Roland
did not seem to think so, and the poor
lady seemed to be in such distress, that Patty’s
sympathies were aroused, and after all it was
a mere neighbourly act of kindness to borrow
and lend, even though the article in question was
somewhat larger than the lemon or the egg
usually borrowed by neighbourly housekeepers.
</p>
<p>So Patty said, “What about the servants,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span>
Mrs. Roland? Do you want to borrow them
too?”
</p>
<p>“I don’t care,” was the reply, “just as it
suits you best. You may leave them here; or
take them with you, and I’ll bring my own.
Oh, please, Miss Fairfield, do help me somehow.”
</p>
<p>Patty thought a minute. It was a responsibility
to decide the question herself, but if she
waited until Nan or her father came home,
it would be too late for Mrs. Roland’s purpose.
</p>
<p>Then she said, “I’ll do it, Mrs. Roland.
You shall have the house and servants at your
disposal until noon to-morrow. You may bring
your own servants also, or not, just as you
choose. We won’t go to your house, thank you,
nor to the hotel. But Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield
and myself will go over to my aunt, Mrs. Barlow’s,
to dine and spend the night. They can
put us up, and they won’t mind a bit our coming
so unexpectedly.”
</p>
<p>“Oh, my dear, how good you are!” said
Mrs. Roland in a burst of gratitude. “I cannot
tell you how I appreciate your kindness!
Are you sure your parents won’t mind?”
</p>
<p>“I’m not at all sure of that,” said Patty,
smiling, “but I don’t see as they can help themselves;
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span>
when they come home, you will probably
be in possession, and your guests will be here,
so there’ll be nothing for my people to do but
to fall in with my plans.”
</p>
<p>“Oh, how good you are,” said Mrs. Roland.
“I will surely make this up to you in some way,
and now, will you just show me about the house
a bit, as I’ve never been here before?”
</p>
<p>So Patty piloted Mrs. Roland about the
house, showed her the various rooms, and told
the servants that they were at Mrs. Roland’s
orders for that night and the next morning.
</p>
<p>After Mrs. Roland had gone back home,
made happy by Patty’s kindness, Patty began to
think that she had done a very extraordinary
thing, and wondered what her father and Nan
would say.
</p>
<p>“But,” she thought to herself, “I’m in for
it now, and they’ll have to abide by my decision,
whatever they think. Now I must pack
some things for our visit. But first I must telephone
to Aunt Grace.”
</p>
<p>“Hello, Auntie,” said Patty, at the telephone,
a few moments later. “Papa and Nan
and I want to come over to the Hurly-Burly to
dinner, and to stay all night. Will you have
us?”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span></p>
<p>“Why, of course, Patty, child, we’re glad to
have you. Come right along and stay as long
as you like. But what’s the matter? Has
your cook left, or is the house on fire?”
</p>
<p>“Neither, Aunt Grace, but I’ll explain when
I get there. Can you send somebody after me
in a carriage? Papa and Nan have gone off
in the cart, and I have two suit cases to bring.”
</p>
<p>“Certainly, Patty, I’ll send old Dill after you
right away, and I’ll make him hurry, too, as
you seem to be anxious to start.”
</p>
<p>“I am,” said Patty, laughing. “Good-bye.”
</p>
<p>Then she gathered together such clothing
and belongings as were necessary for their visit,
and had two suit cases ready packed when her
aunt’s carriage came for her.
</p>
<p>Patty looked a little dubious as she left the
house, but she didn’t feel that she could have
acted otherwise than as she had done, and, too,
since their own trusty servants were to stay
there, certainly no harm could come to the
place.
</p>
<p>So, giggling at the whole performance, Patty
jumped into the Barlow carriage and went to
the Hurly-Burly.
</p>
<p>“Well, of all things!” said her Aunt Grace,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span>
after Patty had told her story. “I’ve had a
suspicion, sometimes, that we Barlows were an
unconventional crowd, but we never borrowed
anybody’s house yet! It’s ridiculous, Patty,
and you ought not to have let that woman have
it!”
</p>
<p>“I just couldn’t help it, Aunt Grace, she was
in such a twitter, and threw herself on my mercy
in such a way that I felt I had to help her
out.”
</p>
<p>“You’re too soft-hearted, Patty; you’d do
anything for anybody who asked you.”
</p>
<p>“You needn’t talk, Aunt Grace, you’re just
the same yourself, and you know that if somebody
came along this minute and wanted to borrow
your house you’d let her have it if she
coaxed hard enough.”
</p>
<p>“I think very likely,” said Aunt Grace, placidly.
“Now, how are you going to catch your
father and Nan?”
</p>
<p>“Why, they’ll have to drive past here on
their way home,” said Patty, “and I mean to
stop them and tell them about it. We can put
the horse in your barn, I suppose.”
</p>
<p>“Yes, of course. And now we’ll go out on
the verandah, and then we can see the Fairfield
turn-out when it comes along.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span></p>
<p>The Fairfields were waylaid and stopped as
they drove by the house, which was not astonishing,
as Patty and Bumble and Mrs. Barlow
watched from the piazza, while Bob was
perched on the front gate post, and Uncle Ted
was pacing up and down the walk.
</p>
<p>“What’s the matter?” cried Mr. Fairfield,
as he reined up his horse in response to their
various salutations.
</p>
<p>“The matter is,” said Patty, “that we
haven’t any home of our own to-night, and so
we’re visiting Aunt Grace.”
</p>
<p>“Earthquake swallowed our house?” inquired
Mr. Fairfield, as he turned to drive in.
</p>
<p>“Not quite,” said Patty, “but one of the
neighbours wanted to borrow it, so I lent it to
her.”
</p>
<p>“That Mrs. Roland, I suppose,” said Nan;
“she probably mislaid her own house, she’s so
careless and rattle-pated.”
</p>
<p>“It was Mrs. Roland,” said Patty, laughing,
“and she’s having a dinner-party, and
their tank burst, and most of the ceilings fell,
and really, Nan, you know yourself such things
do upset a house, if they occur on the day of a
dinner-party.”
</p>
<p>Fuller explanations ensued, and though the
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span>
Fairfields thought it a crazy piece of business,
they agreed with Patty, that it would have been
difficult to refuse Mrs. Roland’s request.
</p>
<p>And it really didn’t interfere with the Fairfields’comfort at all, and the Barlows protested
that it was a great pleasure to them to entertain
their friends so unexpectedly, so, as Mr.
Fairfield declared, Mrs. Roland was, after all,
a public benefactor.
</p>
<p>“You’d better wait,” said Nan, “until you
see the house to-morrow. I know a little about
the Rolands, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised
to find things pretty much upside down.”
</p>
<p>It was nearly noon the next day when Mrs.
Roland telephoned to the Hurly-Burly and
asked for Mrs. Fairfield.
</p>
<p>Nan responded, and was told that the Rolands
were now leaving, and that the Fairfields
might again come into their home.
</p>
<p>Mrs. Roland also expressed voluble thanks
for the great service the Fairfields had done her,
and said that she would call the next day to
thank them in person.
</p>
<p>So the Fairfields went back home, and happily
Nan’s fears were not realised. Nothing seemed
to be spoiled or out of order, and the servants
said that Mrs. Roland and her family and
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span>
friends had been most kind, and had made no
trouble at all.
</p>
<p>“Now, you see,” said Patty, triumphantly,
“that it does no harm to do a kind deed to a
neighbour once in a while, even though it isn’t
the particular kind deed that you’ve done a
hundred times before.”
</p>
<p>“That’s true enough, Patty,” said her father,
“but all the same when you lend our home
again, let it be our own house, and furnished
with our own things. I don’t mind owning up,
now that it’s all over, that I did feel a certain
anxiety arising from the fact that this is a
rented house, and almost none of the household
appointments are our own.”
</p>
<p>“Goodness, gracious me!” said Patty. “I
never once thought of that! Well, I’m glad
they didn’t smash all the china and bric-a-brac,
for they’re mortal homely, and I should certainly
begrudge the money it would take to
replace them.”
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XXI_THE_CRUSOES' id='XXI_THE_CRUSOES'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
<h3>THE CRUSOES</h3>
</div>
<p>Plans were on foot for a huge fair and
bazaar to be held in aid of the Associated
Charities. Everybody in and around
Sandy Cove was interested, and the fair, which
would be held the last week in August, was expected
to eclipse all previous efforts of its
kind.
</p>
<p>All three of the Fairfields were energetically
assisting in the work, and each was a member
of several important committees.
</p>
<p>The Barlows, too, were working hard, and
the Rolands thought they were doing so, though
somehow they accomplished very little. As the
time drew near for the bazaar to open, Patty
grew so excited over the work and had such a
multitude of responsibilities, that she flew around
as madly as when she was preparing for the play
at school.
</p>
<p>“But I’m perfectly well, now,” she said to
her father when he remonstrated with her, “and
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span>
I don’t mind how hard I work as long as I
haven’t lessons to study at the same time.”
</p>
<p>Aside from assisting with various booths and
tables, Patty had charge of a gypsy encampment,
which she spared no pains to make as gay and
interesting as possible.
</p>
<p>The “Romany Rest” she called the little
enclosure which was to represent the gypsies’home, and Patty not only superintended the furnishing
and arranging of the place, but also
directed the details of the costumes which were
to be worn by the young people who were to
represent gypsies.
</p>
<p>The Fairfields’ house was filled with guests
who had come down for the fair.
</p>
<p>Patty had invited Elise and Roger Farrington,
and Bertha and Winthrop Warner. Mr. Hepworth
and Kenneth Harper were there, too,
and the merry crowd of young people worked
zealously in their endeavours to assist Patty and
Nan.
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth, of course, was especially
helpful in arranging the gypsy encampment,
and designing the picturesque costumes for the
girls and young men who were to act as gypsies.
The white blouses with gay-coloured scarfs and
broad sombreros were beautiful to look at, even
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span>
if, as Patty said, they were more like Spanish
fandangoes than like any gypsy garments she
had ever seen.
</p>
<p>“Don’t expose your ignorance, my child,”
said Mr. Hepworth, smiling at her. “A
Romany is not an ordinary gypsy and is always
clothed in this particular kind of garb.”
</p>
<p>“Then that’s all that’s necessary,” said Patty.
“I bow to your superior judgment, and I feel
sure that all the patrons of the fair will spend
most of their time at the ‘Romany Rest.’”
</p>
<p>The day on which the fair was to open
was a busy one, and everybody was up betimes,
getting ready for the grand event.
</p>
<p>A fancy dress parade was to be one of the
features of the first evening, and as a prize was
offered for the cleverest costume, all of the contestants
were carefully guarding the secret of
the characters their costumes would represent.
Although Roger had given no hint of what his
costume was to be, he calmly announced that
he knew it would take the prize. The others
laughed, thinking this a jest, and Patty was of
a private opinion that probably Mr. Hepworth’s
costume would be cleverer than Roger’s, as the
artist had most original and ingenious ideas.
</p>
<p>The fair was to open at three in the afternoon,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span>
and soon after twelve o’clock Patty rushed
into the house looking for somebody to send on
an errand. She found no one about but Bertha
Warner, who was hastily putting some finishing
touches to her own gypsy dress.
</p>
<p>“That’s almost finished, isn’t it, Bertha?”
began Patty breathlessly.
</p>
<p>“Yes; why? Can I help you in any way?”
</p>
<p>“Indeed you can, if you will. I have to go
over to Black Island for some goldenrod. It
doesn’t grow anywhere else as early, at least I
can’t find any. I’ve hunted all over for somebody
to send, but the boys are all so busy, and
so I’m just going myself. I wish you’d come
along and help me row. It’s ever so much
quicker to go across in a boat and get it there,
than to drive out into the country for it.”
</p>
<p>“Of course I will,” said Bertha, “but will
there be time?”
</p>
<p>“Yes, if we scoot right along.”
</p>
<p>The girls flew down to the dock, jumped into
a small rowboat and began to row briskly over
to Black Island. It was not very far, and they
soon reached it. They scrambled out, pulled
the boat well up onto the beach, and went after
the flowers.
</p>
<p>Sure enough, as Patty had said, there was
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span>
a luxuriant growth of goldenrod in many parts
of the island. Patty had brought a pair of
garden shears, and by setting to work vigorously,
they soon had as much as they could carry.
</p>
<p>“There,” said Patty, triumphantly, as she
tied up two great sheaves, “I believe we
gathered that quicker than if we had brought
some boys along to help. Now let’s skip for
home.”
</p>
<p>The island was not very large, but in their
search for the flowers they had wandered farther
than they thought.
</p>
<p>“It’s nearly one o’clock,” said Patty, looking
at her watch, and carrying their heavy cargo
of golden flowers, they hastened back to where
they had left their boat.
</p>
<p>But no boat was there.
</p>
<p>“Oh, Bertha,” cried Patty, “the boat has
drifted away!”
</p>
<p>“Oh, pshaw,” said Bertha, “I don’t believe
it. We pulled it ever so far up on the sand.”
</p>
<p>“Well, then, where is it?”
</p>
<p>“Why, I believe Winthrop or Kenneth or
somebody came over and pulled it away, just
to tease us. I believe they’re around the corner
waiting for us now.”
</p>
<p>Patty tried to take this view of it, but she
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span>
felt a strange sinking of her heart, for it wasn’t
like Kenneth to play a practical joke, and she
didn’t think Winthrop would, either.
</p>
<p>Laying down her bundle of flowers, Bertha
ran around the end of the island, fully expecting
to see her brother’s laughing face.
</p>
<p>But there was no one to be seen, and no sign
of the boat.
</p>
<p>Then Bertha became alarmed, and the two
girls looked at each other in dismay.
</p>
<p>“Look off there,” cried Patty, suddenly,
pointing out on the water.
</p>
<p>Far away they saw an empty boat dancing
along in the sunlight!
</p>
<p>Bertha began to cry, and though Patty felt
like it, it seemed really too babyish, and she
said, “Don’t be a goose, Bertha, we’re not lost
on a desert island, and of course somebody will
come after us, anyway.”
</p>
<p>But Patty was worried more than she would
admit. For no one knew where they had gone,
and the empty boat was drifting away from
Sandy Cove instead of toward it.
</p>
<p>At first, the girls were buoyed up by the excitement
of the situation, and felt that somebody
must find them shortly. But no other
boat was in sight, and as Patty said, everybody
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span>
was getting ready for the fair and no one was
likely to go out rowing that day.
</p>
<p>One o’clock came, and then half-past one,
and though the girls had tried to invent some
way out of their difficulty they couldn’t think
of a thing to do, but sit still and wait. They
had tied their handkerchiefs on the highest
bushes of the island, there being no trees, but
they well knew that these tiny white signals
were not likely to attract anybody’s attention.
</p>
<p>They had shouted until they were hoarse, and
they had talked over all the possibilities of the
case.
</p>
<p>“Of course they have missed us by this time,”
said Patty, “and of course they are looking for
us.”
</p>
<p>“I don’t believe they are,” said Bertha disconsolately,
“because all the people at the house
will think we’re down at the fair grounds, and
all the people there will think we’re up at the
house.”
</p>
<p>“That’s so,” Patty admitted, for she well
knew how everybody was concerned with his or
her own work for the fair, and how little
thought they would be giving to one another
at this particular time.
</p>
<p>And yet, though Patty would not mention it,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span>
and would scarcely admit the thought to herself,
she couldn’t help feeling sure that Mr. Hepworth
would be wondering where she was.
</p>
<p>“The only hope is,” she said to Bertha, “if
somebody should want to see me especially,
about some of the work, and should try to hunt
me up.”
</p>
<p>“Well,” said Bertha, “even if they did, it
never would occur to them that we are over
here.”
</p>
<p>“No, they’d never think of that; even if
they do miss us, and try to hunt for us. They’ll
only telephone to different houses, or something
like that. It will never occur to them that
we’re over here, and why should it?”
</p>
<p>“I’m glad I came with you,” said Bertha,
affectionately. “I should hate to think of you
over here all alone.”
</p>
<p>“If I were here alone,” said Patty, laughing,
“you wouldn’t be thinking of me as here alone.
You’d just be wondering where I was.”
</p>
<p>“So I would,” said Bertha, laughing, too;
“but oh, Patty, do let’s do <i>something!</i> It’s
fearful to sit here helpless like this.”
</p>
<p>“I know it,” said Patty, “but what can we
do? We’re just like Robinson Crusoe and his
man Friday, except that we haven’t any goat.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span></p>
<p>“No, and we haven’t any raft, from which
to select that array of useful articles that he
had at his disposal. Do you remember the
little bag, that always held everything that
could possibly be required?”
</p>
<p>“Oh, that was in ‘Swiss Family Robinson,’”
said Patty; “your early education is getting
mixed up. I hope being cast on a desert island
hasn’t affected your brain. I don’t want to be
over here with a lunatic.”
</p>
<p>“You will be, if this keeps up much longer,”
said poor Bertha, who was of an emotional
nature, and was bravely trying hard not to
cry.
</p>
<p>“We might make a fire,” said Patty, “if we
only had some paper and matches.”
</p>
<p>“I don’t know what good a fire would do.
Nobody would think that meant anything especial.
I wish we could put up a bigger signal of
some sort.”
</p>
<p>“We haven’t any bigger signal, and if we
had, we haven’t any way of raising it any higher
than these silly low bushes. I never saw an
island so poorly furnished for the accommodation
of two young lady Crusoes.”
</p>
<p>“I never did, either. I’m going to shout
again.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span></p>
<p>“Do, if it amuses you, but truly they can’t
hear you. It’s too far.”
</p>
<p>“What do you think will happen, Patty? Do
you suppose we’ll have to stay here all night?”
</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” said Patty, slowly. “Of
course when it’s time for the fair to open, and
we’re not there, they’ll miss us; and of course
papa will begin a search at once. But the
trouble is, Bertha, they’ll never think of searching
over here. They’ll look in every other
direction, but they’ll never dream that we came
out in the boat.”
</p>
<p>So the girls sat and waited, growing more
and more down-hearted, with that peculiar despondency
which accompanies enforced idleness
in a desperate situation.
</p>
<p>“Look!” cried Patty, suddenly, and startled,
Bertha looked where Patty pointed.
</p>
<p>Yes, surely, a boat had put out from the
shore, and was coming toward them. At least
it was headed for the island, though not directly
toward where they sat.
</p>
<p>“They’re going to land farther down,” cried
Patty, excitedly, “come on, Bertha.”
</p>
<p>The two girls rushed along the narrow rough
beach, wildly waving their handkerchiefs at the
occupants of the boat.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span></p>
<p>“It’s Mr. Hepworth,” cried Patty, though
the knowledge seemed to come to her intuitively,
even before she recognised the man who held
the stroke oar.
</p>
<p>“And Winthrop is rowing, too,” said Bertha,
recognising her brother, “and I think that’s
Kenneth Harper, steering.”
</p>
<p>By this time the boat was near enough to
prove that these surmises were correct.
</p>
<p>Relieved of her anxiety, mischievous Patty,
in the reaction of the moment, assumed a saucy
and indifferent air, and as the boat crunched its
keel along the pebbly beach she called out, gaily,
“How do you do, are you coming to call on
us? We’re camping here for the summer.”
</p>
<p>“You little rascals!” cried Winthrop Warner.
“What do you mean by running away in
this fashion, and upsetting the whole bazaar,
and driving all your friends crazy with anxiety
about you?”
</p>
<p>“Our boat drifted away,” said Bertha, “and
we couldn’t catch it, and we thought we’d have
to stay here all night.”
</p>
<p>“I didn’t think we would,” said Patty. “I
felt sure somebody would come after us.”
</p>
<p>“I don’t know why you thought so,” said
Winthrop, “for nobody knew where you were.”
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span></p>
<p>“I know that,” said Patty, smiling, “and
yet I can’t tell you why, but I just felt sure that
somebody would come in a boat, and carry us
safely home.”
</p>
<p>“Whom did you expect?” asked Kenneth,
“me?”
</p>
<p>Patty looked at Kenneth, and then at Mr.
Hepworth, and then dropping her eyes demurely,
she said:
</p>
<p>“I didn’t know <i>who</i> would come, only I just
knew <i>somebody</i> would.”
</p>
<p>“Well, somebody did,” said Kenneth, as he
stowed the great bunches of goldenrod in the
bow of the boat.
</p>
<p>“Yes, somebody did,” said Patty, softly,
flashing a tiny smile at Mr. Hepworth, who said
nothing, but he smiled a little, too, as he bent to
his oars.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XXII_THE_BAZAAR_OF_ALL_NATIONS' id='XXII_THE_BAZAAR_OF_ALL_NATIONS'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
<h3>THE BAZAAR OF ALL NATIONS</h3>
</div>
<p>“How did you know where we were?”
said Bertha to her brother.
</p>
<p>“We didn’t know,” said Winthrop,
“but after we had hunted everywhere, and put
a squad of policemen on your track, and got out
the fire department, and sent for an ambulance,
Hepworth, here, did a little detective work on
his own account.”
</p>
<p>“What did you do?” asked Patty.
</p>
<p>“Why, nothing much,” said Mr. Hepworth,
“I just tried to account for the various boats,
and when I found one was missing, I thought
you must have gone on the water somewhere.
And so I got a field glass and looked all around,
and though I thought I saw your white flags
fluttering. I wasn’t sure, but I put over here on
the chance.”
</p>
<p>“Seems to me,” said Kenneth, “Hepworth
is a good deal like that man in the story. A
horse had strayed away and several people had
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span>
tried to find it, without success. Presently, a
stupid old countryman came up leading the
horse. When asked how he found it he only
drawled out, ‘Wal, I jest considered a spell. I
thought ef I was a horse whar would I go? And
I went there,—and he had!’ That’s a good
deal the way Hepworth did.”
</p>
<p>They all laughed at Kenneth’s funny story,
but Patty said, “It was a sort of intuition, but
all the same I object to having Mr. Hepworth
compared to a stupid old countryman.”
</p>
<p>“I don’t care what I’m compared to,” said
Mr. Hepworth, gaily, “as long as we’ve found
you two runaways, and if we can get you back in
time for the opening of the fair.”
</p>
<p>The time was very short indeed, and as soon
as they landed at the dock, Patty and Bertha
started for the house to don their costumes as
quickly as possible.
</p>
<p>The Fair, or “Bazaar of all Nations,” as it
was called, was really arranged on an elaborate
scale. It was held on the spacious grounds of
Mr. Ashton, one of the wealthiest of the summer
residents of Sandy Cove.
</p>
<p>So many people had interested themselves in
the charity, and so much enthusiasm had they
put into their work, that when it was time to
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span>
throw the gates open to the public, it was a
festive and gorgeous scene indeed.
</p>
<p>The idea of representing various nations had
been picturesquely, if not always logically,
carried out.
</p>
<p>A Japanese tea-booth had been built with
some regard to Japanese fashion, but with even
more effort at comfort and attractive colour
effects. The young ladies who attended it wore
most becoming Japanese costumes, and with
slanting pencilled eyebrows, and Japanese
headdresses, they served tea in Oriental splendour.
</p>
<p>In competition with them was an English
dairy, where the rosy-cheeked maids in their
neat cotton dresses and white aprons dispensed
cheese cakes and Devonshire cream to admiring
customers.
</p>
<p>The representatives of other countries had
even more elaborate results to show for their
labours.
</p>
<p>Italy’s booth was a beautiful pergola, which
had been built for the occasion, but which Mr.
Ashton intended to keep as a permanent decoration.
Over the structure were beautiful vines
and climbing plants, and inside was a gorgeous
collection of blossoms of every sort. Italian
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span>
girls in rich-coloured costumes and a profuse
array of jewelry sold bouquets or growing
plants, and were assisted in their enterprise by
swarthy young men who wore the dress of
Venetian gondoliers, or Italian nobles, with
a fine disregard of rank or caste.
</p>
<p>Spain boasted a vineyard. Mr. Hepworth
had charge of this, and it truly did credit to his
artistic ability. Built on the side of a hill, it
was a clever imitation of a Spanish vineyard,
and large grape vines had been uprooted
and transplanted to complete the effect. To be
sure, the bunches of grapes were of the hothouse
variety, and were tied on the vines, but
they sold well, as did also the other luscious
fruits that were offered for sale in arbours at
either end of the grapery. The young Spaniards
of both sexes who attended to the wants of their
customers were garbed exactly in accordance
with Mr. Hepworth’s directions, and he himself
had artistically heightened the colouring of
their features and complexions.
</p>
<p>Germany offered a restaurant where <i>delicatessen</i>
foods and tempting savories were served
by <i>Fräuleins</i>. Helen Barlow was one of the
jolliest of these, and her plump prettiness and
long flaxen braids of hair suited well the white
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span>
kerchief and laced bodice of her adopted
country.
</p>
<p>The French girls, with true Parisian instinct,
had a millinery booth. Here were sold lovely
feminine bits of apparel, including collars, belts,
laces and handkerchiefs, but principally hats.
The hats were truly beautiful creations, and
though made of simple materials, light straw,
muslin, and even of paper, they were all dainty
confections that any summer girl might be glad
to wear. The little French ladies who exhibited
these goods were voluble and dramatic, and in
true French fashion, and with more or less true
French language, they extolled the beauty of
their wares.
</p>
<p>In a Swiss châlet the peasants sold dolls and
toys; in a Cuban construction, of which no one
knew the exact title, some fierce-looking native
men sold cigars, and in a strange kind of a hut
which purported to be an Eskimo dwelling, ice
cream could be bought.
</p>
<p>The Stars and Stripes waved over a handsome
up-to-date soda-water fountain, as the
authorities had decided that ice-cream soda was
the most typical American refreshment they
could offer to their patrons. But an Indian
encampment also claimed American protection,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span>
and a group of Western cowboys took pride in
their ranch, and even more pride in their swaggering
costumes.
</p>
<p>Altogether the Bazaar was a great show, and
as it was to last for three days, nobody expected
to exhaust all its entertainments in one visit.
</p>
<p>The Romany Rest was one of the prettiest
conceits, and though an idealised gypsy encampment,
it proved a very popular attraction.
</p>
<p>Half a dozen girls and as many young men
wore what they fondly hoped looked enough
like gypsy costumes to justify the name, but at
any rate, they were most becoming and beautiful
to look upon.
</p>
<p>Patty was the gypsy queen, and looked like
that personage as represented in comic opera.
Seated on a queerly constructed, and somewhat
wobbly throne, she told fortunes to those who
desired to know what the future held for them.
</p>
<p>Apparently there was great curiosity in this
respect, for Patty was kept steadily busy from
the time she arrived at her place.
</p>
<p>Other gypsies sold gaily coloured beads,
amulets and charms, and others stirred a queer-looking
brew in a gypsy kettle over a real fire,
and sold cupfuls of it to those who wished in
this way to tempt fate still further.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span></p>
<p>It was a perfect day, and the afternoon was
progressing most satisfactorily.
</p>
<p>Bertha was one of the Swiss peasants, and by
dint of much hurrying, she and Patty had been
able to get ready in time to join the parade of
costumed attendants as they marched to their
various stations.
</p>
<p>Though had it not been for Mr. Phelps and
his swift motor-car, they could scarcely have
reached the fair grounds in time.
</p>
<p>Elise was one of the Italian flower girls, and
Kenneth also wore the garb of Italy.
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth and Roger Farrington were
ferocious-looking Indians, and brandished their
tomahawks and tossed their feathered heads in
fearsome fashion.
</p>
<p>Dick Phelps was a cowboy, and his Herculean
frame well suited the picturesque Western
dress. And Charlie Roland flattered himself
that arrayed as a Chinaman he was too funny
for anything.
</p>
<p>Although Patty had become better acquainted
with young Mr. Roland, she had not learned
to like him. His conceited ways and pompous
manner seemed to her silly and artificial beside
the frank comradeship of her other friends.
</p>
<p>He came early to have his fortune told by
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span>
the gypsy queen, and though, of course, Patty
was in no way responsible for the way in which
the cards fell, and though she told the fortunes
strictly according to the instructions in a printed
book, which she had learned by heart, she was
not especially sorry when Mr. Roland’s fortune
proved to be not altogether a desirable one.
</p>
<p>But the young man was in nowise disconcerted.
</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter,” he said, cheerfully,
“I’ve had my fortune told lots of times, and
things always happen just contrary to what is
predicted. But I say, Miss Romany, can’t you
leave your post for a few minutes and go with
me to the Japanese tea place, for a cup of their
refreshing beverage?”
</p>
<p>“Thank you ever so much,” said Patty, “but
I really can’t leave here. There’s a whole string
of people waiting for their fortunes, and I must
stand by my post. Perhaps I can go later,” she
added, for though she did not care for Charlie
Roland’s attentions, she was too good-natured
to wish to hurt his feelings.
</p>
<p>“I consider that a promise,” said Mr.
Roland, as he moved away to make place for the
next seeker after knowledge.
</p>
<p>Patty turned to her work, and thought no
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span>
more of Charlie Roland and his undesirable
invitation.
</p>
<p>Soon Kenneth came to have his fortune told,
for it had been arranged that each booth should
have plenty of attendants, in order that they
might take turns in leaving their posts and
promenading about the grounds. This was
supposed to advertise their own particular
nation, besides giving all a chance to see the
sights.
</p>
<p>Kenneth’s fortune proved to be a bright and
happy one, but he was not unduly elated over
it, for his faith in such things was not implicit.
</p>
<p>“Thank you,” he said gravely, as Patty finished
telling of the glories which would attend
his future career. “I don’t think there’s anything
omitted from that string of good luck,
unless it’s being President, and I’m not quite
sure I want to be that.”
</p>
<p>“Yes, you do,” said Patty, “every good
American ought to want that, if only as a matter
of patriotism.”
</p>
<p>“Well, I’m patriotic enough,” said Kenneth,
“and I’ll want it if you want me to want it.
And now, Patty, you’ve worked here long
enough for the present. Let somebody else
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span>
take your place, and you come with me for a
walk about the grounds. I’ll take you to the
pergola, and we’ll buy some flowers from
Elise.”
</p>
<p>“I’d love to go, Ken, but truly I ought to
stay here a while longer. Lots of people want
their fortune told, and nobody can do it but me,
because I learnt all that lingo out of a book.
No, I can’t go now. Run along,—I’m busy.”
</p>
<p>Patty spoke more shortly than she meant to,
for the very reason that she wanted to go with
Kenneth, but she felt it her duty to remain at
her post.
</p>
<p>Kenneth appreciated the principle of the
thing, but he thought that Patty might have
been a little kinder about it. His own temper
was a little stirred by the incident, and rising
quickly, he said, “All right, stay here, then!”
And turning on his heel, he sauntered carelessly
away.
</p>
<p>Patty looked after him, thinking what a handsome
boy he was, and how well his Italian suit
became him. Kenneth’s skin was naturally
rather dark, and his black eyes and hair and
heavy eyebrows were somewhat of the Italian
type. His white linen blouse was slightly turned
in at the throat and he wore a crimson silk tie,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span>
and sash to match, knotted at one side. A
broad-brimmed hat of soft grey felt sat jauntily
on his head, and as he swung himself down the
path, Patty thought she had never seen him look
so well.
</p>
<p>Soon after this, Charlie Roland came back
again.
</p>
<p>“I’ve brought someone to help you out,” he
said, as he introduced a young girl who accompanied
him. “This is Miss Leslie and she knows
fortune telling from the ground up. Give her
a red sash, and a bandana handkerchief to tie
around her head, and let her take your place, if
only for a short time; and you come with me
to buy some flowers. Do you know, your costume
really calls for some scarlet blossoms in
your hair, and over in the pergola they have
some red geraniums that are simply great.
Come on, let’s get some.”
</p>
<p>Patty did want some red flowers, and had
meant to have some, but she dressed in such a
hurry that there was no time to find any. Moreover,
she had never known Charlie Roland to
appear to such good advantage. He seemed to
have dropped his pompous manner with his
civilised dress, and in his comical Chinaman’s
costume, he seemed far more attractive than in
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span>
his own everyday dress. And since he had provided
her with a substitute, Patty saw no reason
for refusing his invitation.
</p>
<p>So together they left the Romany Rest, and
walked about the Fair, chatting with people
here and there, until they reached the pergola.
</p>
<p>Elise was delighted to see them, and while the
Italian girls besought Mr. Roland to buy their
flowers, the Italian young men clustered around
Patty, and with merry laugh and jest, presented
her with sundry floral offerings.
</p>
<p>There was one exception, however; Kenneth
stood aloof. For the first time in his life, he
felt that Patty had intentionally slighted him.
He had asked her to come to the pergola for
flowers, and she had refused. Then a few
minutes later she had accepted a similar invitation
from that stupid young Roland. Kenneth
was obliged to admit to himself that young
Roland did not look stupid just at present, for
he had some talent as a comedian, and was acting
the part of a funny Chinaman with success.
But that didn’t make any difference to Kenneth,
and he looked reproachfully at Patty, as she
accepted the flowers and gay compliments from
her attendant cavalier.
</p>
<p>Patty had intended to explain to Kenneth why
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span>
it had been possible for her to leave the gypsy
camp in charge of another fortune teller, but
when she saw the boy’s moody expression and
sulky attitude her sense of humour was touched,
and she giggled to herself at the idea of Kenneth
being angry at such a trifle.
</p>
<p>She thought it distinctly silly of him, and
being in a mischievous mood, she concluded he
ought to be punished for such foolishness. So
instead of smiling at him, she gave him only a
careless glance, and then devoted her attention
to the others.
</p>
<p>Patty was a general favourite, and her happy,
sunny ways made friends for her wherever she
went. She was therefore surrounded by a crowd
of merry young people, some of whom had just
been introduced to her, and others whom she
had known longer; and as she laughed and chatted
with them, Kenneth began to think that he
was acting rather foolishly, and longed to join
the group around the gypsy queen.
</p>
<p>But the boy was both sensitive and proud,
and he could not quite bring himself to overlook
what he considered an intentional unkindness on
the part of Patty.
</p>
<p>So, wandering away from the pergola, he
visited other booths, and chatted with other
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span>
groups, determined to ignore Patty and her
perversities.
</p>
<p>Patty, not being an obtuse young person, saw
through all this, and chose to be amused by it.
</p>
<p>“Dear old Ken,” she thought to herself,
“what a goose he is! I’ll get Nan to ask him to
have supper with us all in the English Dairy,
and then I expect he’ll thaw out that frozen
manner of his.”
</p>
<p>Feeling that she ought to return to her own
post, Patty told her Chinaman so, and together
they went back to the Romany Rest; but as
Patty was about to take her place again at the
fortune teller’s table, Mr. Phelps came along
and desired her to go with him, and have her
photograph taken. At first Patty demurred,
though she greatly wanted to go, but Miss Leslie
said she was not at all tired of fortune telling,
and would gladly continue to substitute for Patty
a while longer.
</p>
<p>“Come on, then,” said Dick Phelps, “there’s
no reason why you shouldn’t, since Miss Leslie
is kind enough to fill your place.”
</p>
<p>Patty still hesitated, for she thought that Kenneth
would be still more offended if he saw her
walking around with Mr. Phelps, after having
told him that she could not leave the gypsy camp.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span></p>
<p>But Dick Phelps was of an imperious nature.
He was accustomed to having his own way, and
was impatient at Patty’s hesitation.
</p>
<p>“Come on,” he said. “March!” And taking
her by the arm, he led her swiftly down the
path toward the photograph booth.
</p>
<p>As he strode along, cowboy fashion, Patty
said, meekly, “Let go of my arm, please, Mr.
Phelps. I think you’ve broken two bones
already! And <i>don’t</i> walk so fast. I’m all out
of breath!”
</p>
<p>“Forgive me,” said Dick Phelps, suddenly
checking his speed, and smiling down at the girl
beside him, “you see this cowboy rig makes me
feel as if I were back on the plains again, and I
can’t seem to adjust myself to civilised conditions.”
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps looked very splendid as a cowboy,
and Patty listened with interest, as he told her of
an exciting episode which had occurred during
his ranch life, in a distant western territory.
</p>
<p>So engrossed did they become in this conversation
that the photographs were forgotten for
the moment, and they strolled along past the
various booths, unheeding the numerous invitations
to enter.
</p>
<p>Of course Kenneth saw them, and from a
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span>
trifling offence, Patty’s conduct seemed to him
to have grown into a purposed rudeness.
</p>
<p>As they passed him, Patty smiled pleasantly,
and paused, saying, “We’re all going to have
supper in the Dairy, and of course you’ll be with
us, Ken?”
</p>
<p>“Of course I won’t!” said Kenneth, and
deliberately turning on his heel, he walked the
other way.
</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<a name='XXIII_THE_END_OF_THE_SUMMER' id='XXIII_THE_END_OF_THE_SUMMER'></a>
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span>
<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
<h3>THE END OF THE SUMMER</h3>
</div>
<p>“Whew!” said Dick Phelps, in his
straightforward way, “he’s mad at
you, isn’t he?”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Patty, “and it’s so silly! All
about nothing at all. I wish you’d take me back
to him, Mr. Phelps, and leave us alone, and I
think I can straighten matters out in two
minutes.”
</p>
<p>“Indeed, I’ll do nothing of the sort,”
returned Mr. Phelps, in his masterful way; “you
promised to go to the photograph place, and
that’s where we’re going. I don’t propose to
give you up to any young man we chance to
meet!”
</p>
<p>Patty laughed, and they went on. At the
photograph booth they found many of the gaily
dressed young people, anxious to have pictures
of themselves in their pretty costumes. Patty
and Mr. Phelps had to wait their turn, but
finally succeeded in getting a number of pictures.
Patty had some taken alone, and some in which
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span>
she was one of a gay group. Some were successful
portraits, and others were not, but all
were provocative of much laughter and fun. By
a rapid process of development, the photographers
were enabled to furnish the completed pictures
in less than a half hour after the cameras
did their work, and as a consequence, this booth
was exceedingly popular and promised handsome
returns for the benefit of charity.
</p>
<p>Mr. Phelps and Patty loitered about, waiting
for their pictures, when Patty caught sight of
Nan, and running to her she said, “For goodness’
sake, Nan, do help me out! Kenneth’s as
mad as hops, and all about nothing! Now I
want you to ask him to come to supper with our
crowd, and you must <i>make</i> him come!”
</p>
<p>“I can’t make him come, if he doesn’t want
to. You’ve been teasing him, Patty, and you
must get out of your own scrapes.”
</p>
<p>“Ah, Nan, dear,” coaxed Patty, “do be
good, and truly, if you’ll just persuade him to
come to supper with us, I’ll do the rest.”
</p>
<p>“I’ll try,” said Nan as she walked away,
“but I won’t promise that I’ll succeed.”
</p>
<p>She did succeed, however, and some time later
Mr. Fairfield gathered the large party whom he
had invited to supper, in the English Dairy.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span></p>
<p>The supper was to be a fine one, far exceeding
the bounds of Dairy fare, and Mr. Fairfield
had reserved a long table for his guests.
</p>
<p>As they trooped in, laughing and talking, and
seated themselves for the feast, Patty was
relieved to see that Kenneth was among them,
after all.
</p>
<p>He took a seat between Elise and Helen Barlow,
and knowing Bumble’s good nature, Patty
went directly to her, and asked her if she
wouldn’t move, as she wanted to sit there herself.
</p>
<p>“Of course I will,” said Bumble, and jumping
up, she ran around to the other side of the
table.
</p>
<p>Then Patty deliberately sat down by Kenneth,
who couldn’t very well get up and walk
away, himself, though he looked at her with no
expression of welcome in his glance.
</p>
<p>Without a word, Patty leaned over and
selected from a dish of olives on the table one
which had a stem to it.
</p>
<p>With a tiny bit of ribbon she tied the olive
to a little green branch she had brought in with
her, and then demurely held the token toward
Kenneth.
</p>
<p>For a moment the boy looked rather blank,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span>
and then realising that Patty was offering him
the olive branch of peace, and that she had gone
to some trouble to do this, and that moreover
she had done it rather cleverly, the boy’s face
broke into a smile, and he turned toward Patty.
</p>
<p>“Thank you,” he said, as he took the little
spray, and attached it to the rolling collar of
his blouse. “I accept it, with its full meaning.”
</p>
<p>“You’re such a goose, Kenneth!” said Patty,
her eyes dancing with laughter. “There was
nothing to get huffy about.”
</p>
<p>“Well,” said Kenneth, feeling his grounds
for complaint slipping away from him, “you
pranced off with that Roland chap, after you
had just told me you couldn’t leave your gypsy
queen business.”
</p>
<p>“I know it,” said Patty, “but Ken, he
brought a nice lady to fill my place, and besides,
he asked me to go to get red flowers and I
really wanted red flowers.”
</p>
<p>“I asked you to go for flowers too,” said
Kenneth, not yet entirely mollified.
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Patty, “but you didn’t say <i>red</i>
flowers. How did I know but that you’d buy
pink or blue ones, and so spoil my whole gypsy
costume?”
</p>
<p>Kenneth had to laugh in spite of himself, at
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span>
this bit of audacity. “And then right afterwards
you went off again with Dick Phelps,” he
continued.
</p>
<p>“Kenneth,” said Patty, looking at him with
an expression of mock terror, “I couldn’t help
myself that time! Honest, I couldn’t. Mr.
Phelps is a fearful tyrant. He’s an ogre, and
when he commanded me to go, I just had to go!
He’s a man that makes you do a thing, whether
you want to or not. Why, Kenneth, he just
marched me off!”
</p>
<p>“All right,” said Kenneth, “I’ll take a leaf
out of his book. After this, when I want you
to go anywhere, <i>I’ll</i> just march you off.”
</p>
<p>“You can try,” said Patty, saucily, “but I’m
not sure you can do it. It takes a certain type
of man to do that sort of thing successfully, and
I don’t know anybody but Dick Phelps who’s
just that kind.”
</p>
<p>But peace was restored, for Kenneth realised
that Patty’s explanation was a fair one, and that
he had been foolishly quick to take offence.
</p>
<p>After supper they all went to the grand stand
to see the parade of fancy costumes.
</p>
<p>These were quite separate from the booth
attendants, and a prize had been offered for the
cleverest conceit, most successfully carried out.
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span></p>
<p>When at last the grand march took place, it
showed a wonderful array of thoroughly ingenious
costumes.
</p>
<p>Of course there were many clowns, historical
characters, fairies, and queer nondescript
creatures, but there were also many characters
which were unique and noteworthy.
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth, who was in the parade, had
chosen to represent the full moon.
</p>
<p>How he did it, no one quite knew; but all
that was visible was an enormous sphere, of
translucent brightness and a luminous yellow
color.
</p>
<p>Mr. Fairfield declared that the medium must
be phosphorus, but all agreed that it was a
wonderful achievement, and many thought it
would surely take the prize.
</p>
<p>The sphere was hollow, and made of a light
framework, and Mr. Hepworth walked inside
of it, really carrying it along with him. It so
nearly touched the ground that his feet were
scarcely observable, and the great six foot globe
made a decided sensation, as it moved slowly
along.
</p>
<p>Patty remembered that Roger had declared
he was going to take the prize, and as she had
knowledge of the boy’s ability along these lines,
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span>
she felt by no means sure that it wouldn’t eclipse
Mr. Hepworth’s shining orb.
</p>
<p>And sure enough, when Roger appeared, it
was in the character of a Christmas tree!
</p>
<p>The clever youth had selected just the right
kind of a tree, and cutting away enough twigs
and branches near the trunk on one side, he had
made a space in which he could thrust the whole
of his tall slender self.
</p>
<p>To protect his face and hands from the
scratchy foliage, and also to render himself
inconspicuous, he wore a tight-fitting robe of
dark brown muslin, which concealed even his
face and arms, though eyeholes allowed him to
see where he was going.
</p>
<p>In a word, the boy himself almost constituted
the trunk of the tree, and by walking slowly, it
looked as if the tree itself was moving along
without assistance.
</p>
<p>The tree was gaily hung with real Christmas
trinkets and decorations, and lighted with
candles.
</p>
<p>The idea was wonderfully clever, and though
it had been hard work to arrange the boughs to
conceal him entirely, Roger had accomplished
it, and the gay decorations hid all defects.
</p>
<p>The judges awarded the prize to Roger, who
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span>
calmly remarked to Patty, afterward, “I told
you I’d get it, didn’t I?”
</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Patty, “and so then of course
I knew you would.”
</p>
<p>It was a rather tired party that went back to
the Fairfields’ house at the close of the evening.
</p>
<p>Nan and Mr. Fairfield issued strict orders
that everybody must go to bed at once, as there
were two more strenuous days ahead, and they
needed all the rest they could get.
</p>
<p>But next morning they reappeared, quite
ready for fresh exertions, and Patty declared
that for her part she’d like to be a gypsy all the
year round.
</p>
<p>“Well I never want to be a Christmas tree
again,” said Roger, “in spite of my precautions,
I’m all scratched up!”
</p>
<p>“Never mind,” said his sister consolingly,
“you took the prize, and that’s glory enough
to make up for lots of scratches.”
</p>
<p>The second and third days of the Fair were
much like the first, except that the crowds of
visitors continually increased.
</p>
<p>The fame of the entertainment spread rapidly,
and people came, even from distant parts of
Long Island, to attend the festivities.
</p>
<p>But at last it was all over, and the Fairfield
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span>
verandah was crowded with young people,
apparently of all nations, who were congratulating
each other on the wonderful success.
</p>
<p>“Of course,” said Patty, “the greatest thing
was that we had such perfect weather. If it
had rained, the whole thing would have been
spoiled.”
</p>
<p>“But it didn’t rain,” said Nan, “and everything
went off all right, and they must have
made bushels of money.”
</p>
<p>“Well, it was lovely,” said Patty with a little
sigh, “and I enjoyed every minute of it, but I
don’t want to engage in another one right away.
I think I shall go to bed and sleep for a week!”
</p>
<p>“I wish I were a bear,” said Kenneth, “they
can go to sleep and sleep all winter.”
</p>
<p>“You’d make a good bear,” said Patty, in
an aside to him, “because you can be so cross.”
</p>
<p>But the merry smile that accompanied her
words robbed them of any unpleasant intent,
and Kenneth smiled back in sympathy.
</p>
<p>“Just to think,” said Nan, “a week from
to-day we’ll all be back in the city, and our
lovely summer vacation a thing of the past.”
</p>
<p>“It has been a beautiful summer,” said Patty,
her thoughts flying backward over the past season.
“I’ve never had such a happy summer in
<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span>
my life. It’s been just one round of pleasure
after another. Everybody has been so good to
me and the whole world seems to have connived
to help me have a good time.”
</p>
<p>“In so far as I’m part of the whole world,
allow me to express my willingness to keep right
on conniving,” said big Dick Phelps, in his
funny way.
</p>
<p>“Me, too,” said Kenneth, in his hearty, boyish
voice.
</p>
<p>Mr. Hepworth said nothing, but he smiled at
Patty from where he sat at the other end of the
long verandah.
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr class="full" />
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