Patty Blossom. Wells Carolyn
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Patty likes everybody. She's the greatest little old liker you ever saw! Why, she even likes people who don't like her."
"Are there such?" asked Blaney, properly.
"Yes, indeed," Patty declared; "and I can't help admiring their good taste."
"I can't either," and Blaney spoke so seriously, that Patty almost gasped.
"That isn't the answer," she smiled; "you should have contradicted me."
"No," the poet went on; "people who don't like you show real discrimination. It is because you are so crude and unformed of soul."
But Patty was too wise to be caught with such chaff.
"Yes, that's it," she said, and nodded her curly head in assent.
"You say yes, because you don't know what I'm talking about. But it's true. If you had your soul scraped and cleaned and properly polished, you would be well worth liking."
"Go on! go on!" cried Patty, clapping her hands. "Now I know you're the real thing in poets! That's the way I thought they would talk! Say more."
But Blaney turned sulky. He scowled at Patty, he threw a reproachful glance at Elise, and the atmosphere suddenly charged with gloom.
Patty felt that it was her fault and that she had perhaps gone too far. The man was Elise's guest and it wasn't right to make fun of him, if he did sound foolish. So, ignoring the past conversation, Patty smiled, and said, "It is too bad about the storm, isn't it? We had expected to have such a fine tennis game today. You play, of course?"
It was a chance shot, but Patty felt pretty sure that such a big, muscular chap would be fond of outdoor sports and, as it turned out, he was. Moreover, it would be a grumpy poet, indeed, who wouldn't relent under the magic of Patty's smile.
"Yes, I do," he replied, animatedly, and then the talk turned to the game, and the chances of the storm abating and play being possible in a day or two.
"Hello, Blaney," said Roger Farrington, coming into the room. "How's everything?"
"All right, Farry. How goes it with you?"
"Fine. I say, girls, are you game for a little two-cent sleigh ride in the storm? As soon as it stops snowing, the flakes will melt like morning dew, and, if we catch a ride at all, it must be immejit. How about it?"
"I'd love to go!" cried Patty, her eyes sparkling. "I haven't had a sleigh ride in ages–"
"And no telling when you will again," said Roger. "But it's blowing great guns, and snowing fast. You're sure you want to go?"
"Course we do," insisted Elise. "Shall we get our things now?"
"Not quite yet. I'll have to telephone Mr. Livery Man for a rig. This otherwise well-stocked outfit that we're inhabiting doesn't have such a thing on the premises as a sleigh. I'll go and see about it."
"Can't we stop and pick up Alla?" suggested Elise.
"No," and Sam Blaney shook his head decidedly. "My sister wouldn't think of putting her nose out-of-doors on a day like this. I'm surprised that you will, Miss Fairfield."
"Oh, I'm a tough pine knot. I may not look the part, but I assure you wind and weather have no terrors for me."
"That's so," put in Elise. "Patty looks like a chaff which the wind driveth away, but it would be a pretty strong old wind that could do it."
"You can't tell by looks; my sister looks like a strong, hearty girl, but she's as fragile as a spring crocus."
"There's nothing fragiler than that," Patty remarked; "I've often tried to keep the flimsy little things for a few hours, and even in water they droop and peak and pine all to pieces."
"That's just like Alla," said Blaney. "She's psychic, you see–"
"Oh, is she!" cried Patty. "I've always wanted to know a real psychic.
Mayn't I meet her?"
"Indeed you may, she'll be pleased. Will you come round to the studio today, while we're out sleighing?"
"No, not today," said Elise, positively. "Roger wouldn't stand for it. He'll want to put in all the time there is on the road. And he's going to New York tonight, I think."
"Oh, yes," and Blaney remembered. "Let's see, his wedding day is—when is it?"
"Not till the fifteenth of December. But he and Mona have so much to look after and attend to, that he spends most of his time on the road between here and New York."
"Isn't Mona coming down here while I'm here?" asked Patty.
"She promised to," Elise replied, "but Mona's promises are not to be implicitly depended on just now. She's getting married with all her time and attention."
"Well, a wedding like hers is to be does take a lot of planning. And Mona's looking after everything herself. She's a genius at that sort of thing, but it seems as if she ought to have some one to help her,—some relative, I mean."
"Her father's a big help," said Roger, who had returned just in time to hear Patty's remark.
"Yes, I know it, but I mean a woman relative."
"I know," agreed Roger. "You're right, in a way. But Mona is so accustomed to managing for herself that I'm pretty sure a meddling relative would bother her to death."
"Probably would," agreed Patty. "Do we go sleigh-ridy, Roger?"
"We do. The fiery steeds will be here in fifteen minutes. Get warm wraps, for it's blowing like blazes. Shall we go 'round by your studio, Sam, and drop in on Alla?"
"No, please. I don't want to seem inhospitable, but I've decided I want Miss Fairfield to see the studio first under proper conditions. I want Alla to know when she's coming and–"
"And have her hair frizzed. I get you. All right. We'll drive 'round the lake, and see how the going is, and then decide whether to keep on, or go to some friend's for a cup of tea."
"You mustn't think my sister is a fuss," said Blaney to Patty, as she started to leave the room. "But you know the artist soul likes to have the stage rightly set for an important scene."
"Yes," said Patty, a little puzzled.
"Yes. And your advent at my studio is a most important scene–"
"Why?" asked Patty, bluntly.
"Because you're important. In fact, I may say you're the most important person I have ever seen."
"Really? But if you say things like that, you'll make me vain."
"You can't well be vainer than you are."
Patty looked up in sudden anger at this speech, but Blaney's eyes were quietly amused, and his soft voice was so innocent of offence, that Patty was uncertain what attitude to assume, and to save the necessity of a reply she ran from the room and upstairs to get ready for the ride.
CHAPTER II
As Roger had predicted, the snow departed as quickly as it came, and two days after their sleigh ride there was scarcely a vestige of white on the ground. Tennis was again possible and a great game was in progress on the court at Pine Laurel. Patty and Roger were playing against Elise and Sam Blaney, and the pairs were well matched.
But the long-contested victory finally went against Patty, and she laughingly accepted defeat.
"Only because Patty's not quite back on her game yet," Roger defended; "this child has been on the sick list, you know, Sam, and she isn't up to her own mark."
"Well, I like that!" cried Patty; "suppose you bear half the blame, Roger. You see, Mr. Blaney, he is so absorbed in his own Love Game, he can't play with his old-time skill."
"All right, Patsy, let it go at that. And it's so, too. I suddenly remembered something Mona told me to tell you, and it affected my service."
"What is it?" asked Elise. "Anything of importance?"
"Yes; it's this: Mona has decided to sell Red Chimneys, and Philip Van Reypen thinks it a good plan to buy it for the Children's Home."
"For