Carolyn Wells - Patty Blossom

"Nice boy," said Mona, approvingly; "doesn't he make pretty speeches, Patty?"

"Lovely. You'll have a beautiful time on your trip. I 'most wish I was going with you?"

"Come on, Patty," said Philip, "let's make it a double affair. How about it?"

"No, thank you. I haven't any suit trimmed with chinchilla."

"You've a whole chinchilla coat on now," said Mona. "You could wear that."

"What! get married in old clothes! No-sir-ee! The best part of a wedding is the trousseau. That's the only thing that would ever persuade me to take the fatal step."

"It is fun," agreed Mona. "Oh, Patty, my green velvet came home yesterday! It's simply wonderful! The tunic, you know–"

"Help! help!" cried Roger. "You girls have got us penned in here where we can't get away, but if you're going to talk about bias ruffling and side gores, I shall jump out the window! I warn you."

"You can't stop 'em, old man," said Van Reypen, gravely, "they've got to go through with that green velvet, now they've begun on it. Proceed, Mona. The tunic was trimmed with peplum, wasn't it? and the bodice was cut en train ——"

"You don't deserve to know," Mona told him, "and as for Roger, he'll see enough of that green velvet, poor man! It's so beautiful, I expect to wear it on every possible occasion."

"All right, dear," said Roger, rolling his eyes in mock devotion.

"Whatever you say, goes, my queen, my—y que—ee—n!"

"Even if I wear a rig like Alla Blaney wore last night?" asked Mona, laughing.

"Well, I must draw the line somewhere, and I should say that was the very place! If you elect to appear in a scarecrow costume of that type, I shall send you back to your father."

"No danger," and Mona shook her head. "Why do people want to make themselves such frights?"

"Their dress interprets their souls," said Van Reypen, sarcastically, "and their souls are frights."

"Nothing of the sort, Phil," flared out Patty; "I'd like you to remember those people are my friends."

"Well, my dear, if you choose to have friends with souls like frights, it is, of course, your privilege; but you must allow me to express my opinion of them."

"And so you may,—but not to me."

"Very well; consider I was talking to Mona,—which I really was."

"Then continue to talk to her, for I don't want to talk to you."

"All right, pretty Patty,—pretty little sunny-faced Patty,—all right."

Philip's voice was teasing and his smile was irritating, and Patty was angry at him anyway, yet she couldn't help laughing at his speech, for she looked as cross as a thunder cloud, and she knew it. That is, as near to the crossness of a thunder cloud as Patty Fairfield could manage. Her cheeks were reddened by the cold wind and her blue eyes always looked bluer in a frosty atmosphere. And now, as an uncontrollable smile parted her scarlet lips, and her white teeth gleamed, and her dimples came into view, Patty justified Philip's term of "pretty Patty," but she quickly concealed her smile by sinking her chin deep into the great fur collar of her coat.

"Wasn't it a crazy party?" Mona went on, not realising she was on a dangerous subject. "They all took themselves so seriously."

"Why shouldn't they?" said Patty, coming up out of her fur cave; "it might be better if we all took ourselves more seriously,—such a lot of triflers and sillyheads as we are!"

"And such a lot of piffle-peddlers and hard-boiled eggs as they are!" said Philip, fairly snorting in disgust.

"Oh, very well!" and Patty sank again into the chinchilla cavern.

Roger touched Mona's foot with his own, and gave her an urgent, significant glance, as he said, with a determination to change the subject, "We'll just about get to Red Chimneys in time for luncheon. Shall we have our picnic before we explore the house? I'm as hungry as three bears and a hunter."

"So'm I," agreed Van Reypen, taking the cue. "What's in the hampers?

Unless something pretty substantial, I vote we go to a hotel to feast."

"No," said Mona, "that wouldn't be half as much fun. It's the picnicking that's so jolly. If you agree, Patty," she added, for if Patty had any intention of sulking, there would be little fun in a picnic.

But Patty Fairfield was no spoilsport. She was annoyed at Philip, but that was no reason for her to make the others uncomfortable, and she responded gaily, "Oh, yes, the picnic is lots more fun. But will the house be warm enough?"

"Yes," Mona answered, "we telephoned down last night for Mr. Bates, the caretaker, to make some fires, and we can pile logs in the big hall fireplace till we roast alive. We can have the feast in the hall, if the dining-room is chilly."

But they found the whole house fairly warm and distinctly cheery and homey-looking. Bates had aired and dusted it, and had built fires and altogether the beautiful rooms looked so attractive, that Mona declared she was half inclined not to give it up, after all.

"We could rent it some years, Roger," she said, "and live in it some years, if we wanted to."

"Just as you say, Mona," he replied; "it's your house. Wait until spring to decide, if you prefer."

"All right," said Van Reypen, "but I fear we must decide on the house we buy before that. For we want to get the place we're to have in order as soon as Spring pokes her nose in."

"We'll have luncheon first," Mona decided, "and then discuss the matter."

The men opened the hampers, and the girls set the table in the great hall, near the roaring wood fire that filled the enormous fireplace. Salads and sandwiches, carefully packed, were in faultless condition, and the numerous Thermos bottles held hot soup, coffee, and chocolate. A small freezer of ice cream appeared from somewhere, and a box of confectionery contented the girls while the men smoked after the repast.

"It's this way," said Roger, at last, when they had talked over the whole thing thoroughly, "Mona and I are considering our future,—yes, even our old age! And, so, there are some points that we want to discuss alone. Therefore, and wherefore, my friends,—my future wife and I will, if you please, go apart by ourselves for a bit of confidential chat."

"Good gracious, Roger," said Patty, "anybody would think you two were married already!"

"Same as," Roger retorted; "especially in matters of real estate, and future dwelling-houses and such things. But, really, what I'm going to do, is, to try to persuade, cajole, or coerce Mona into selling the place; for I know she doesn't really want it, only today, in the glamour of this firelight glow, it seems attractive to her. So, I must needs convince her of my superior judgment."

The two went off, laughing, and Philip sat down again beside Patty.

"How happy they are together," he said, musingly.

"Yes; I'm thoroughly glad for them. I never saw a pair better suited to one another. Roger adores the ground Mona walks on, yet he knows just how to manage her–"

"Do you think a man ought to 'manage' the woman he loves?"

"If necessary, yes. At least he should know how to."

"And do you think I know how to manage you?"

"I don't want to be managed,—I can manage myself," Patty smiled, roguishly. "But since you ask me, Phil, no, I don't think you do know how to manage me,—not the least little mite!"

"Teach me then, dear. I'll do just what you say."

"All right. First, you must not scold me if I like people whom you don't like."

"Oh, hang! I had forgotten all about those bumptious lumps! Why remind me?"

"Because it's a case in point. If you care for me, you must care for the things or people that I care for."

"But, Patty,—since you've brought up the subject, let's have it out. You can't like those humbugs,—those fake brainsters,—those sap-head pharisees–"