Patty Blossom. Wells Carolyn
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gracious' sake!" exclaimed Patty. "That is news! Why doesn't Phil tell me about it?"
"That's just it. He's coming down here tomorrow to talk it over with you. Mona's coming too, you know, and you can all have a powwow."
"All right," and Patty wagged her head, sagaciously. "It's not a bad idea at all. I knew Mr. Galbraith was thinking of selling the Spring Beach place, and it would be a fine house for the kiddies."
"And are you running a Children's Home?" asked Sam Blaney, as they all strolled back to the house, and paused on the wide veranda.
"Too cool for you out here, Patty?" asked Elise.
"Not a bit of it. I love the outdoors. Somebody find me a sweater and a rug, and I'll be as happy as a clam."
Roger brought a red silk sweater from the hall, and a big, soft steamer rug, and proceeded to tuck Patty up, snugly.
"Yes," she said, turning to Blaney, and answering his inquiry, "I am supposed to be organising a Children's Home, but all the hard work is done for me, and I only say yes or no, to easy questions. You see, a dear old friend of mine left me a sum of money for the purpose, and I want to prove a trustworthy steward. But we're not going to do anything definite until Spring, unless, as Red Chimneys is in the market, it seems advisable to secure it while we can."
"Goodness, Patty," said Elise; "you talk like a Board of Managers!"
"That's what I am; or, rather, I'm Manager of the Board. Is Philip coming tonight, Roger?"
"Yes, he'll be here for dinner. And Mona, too. I say, Blaney, we'll bring 'em along to your party, eh?"
"Of course. Alla will be delighted to have them. No matter if we're crowded. You see, Miss Fairfield, our place is small, but our welcome is vurry, vurry large–" Blaney waved his long arms, as if including the whole world in his capacious welcome.
"You're vurry, vurry kind," returned Patty, unconsciously imitating his peculiar pronunciation. "I'm just crazy to see your studio. It seemed as if the time would never come. And I want to meet your sister, too. I know it will be a lovely party. I've never been to a real Bohemian Studio party."
"Oh, we don't call it Bohemian, because, you see, it is Bohemian. Only make-believe Bohemians call themselves so. You'll learn to distinguish the difference."
"I hope so. I've always wanted to know what Bohemianism really is."
"We'll show you tonight. What are you going to wear?"
"My goodness, I don't know. I hadn't thought about it. Also, I've never been asked a question like that before."
"Ah, but it means so much! If your gown should be out of key–" Blaney rolled up his eyes and spread his hands, as if the thought were too appalling for words.
Patty giggled. "I hope it won't be," she said. "But, tell me, what is the key? Maybe I can strike it."
"The key," and the poet looked thoughtful, "ah, yes, I have it! The key will be saffron and ultramarine."
Patty gasped. "Oh, I haven't a frock to my name in those colours!"
"But you can harmonise,—yes, harmonise. You will, won't you? If you didn't, I couldn't bear it."
"Oh, then I'll harmonise, yes, I promise you I will. I'll find something that won't make a discord. But can you dictate to all your guests like this?"
"Alas, no! Would that I might! And now I must go. Alla will be wanting me."
"What is he, anyway?" said Patty, as after his adieux, the poet swung away, with his queer, loping gait.
"Bats in his belfry," returned Roger, laughing. "He's the real thing in high-art souls,—if you get what I mean."
"Oh, I don't know," demurred Patty; "I think he's sincere."
"You do! Well, he may be, for all of me. But if he is, give me base deception, every time! Don't you fall in love with him, Patty, Van Reypen wouldn't stand for it."
"I don't know what Mr. Van Reypen has to say about it," returned Patty, with a heightened colour. "And remember, Roger, not everybody is so absorbed in loving and being loved as you are!"
Patty's roguish smile was affectionate as well, for she was fond of Roger, and also of Mona, and she was deeply interested in their love affair. Their engagement had been a short one, and now that the wedding day was so near, the whole Farrington family could think or talk of little else. And as a house guest and a dear friend, Patty, too, was enthusiastic and excited about the preparations.
And then Roger went off to the train to meet Mona, and Philip, who came down at the same time, and Elise disappeared and Patty sat alone, in the falling dusk, snugly tucked in her rugs, and feeling very lazy and comfortable and happy.
Her thoughts drifted idly from one subject to another, and presently she heard a step beside her, and felt her hand taken in somebody's warm clasp.
"Philip!" she cried, starting up.
"Yes, my girl, and so glad to see you again. How are you?"
"Fine. This splendid air and luxurious living has made me all well again."
"That's good. But it's too late for you to be out here. Come on in the house."
"Yes, I will. Did Mona come?"
"Yes, we came down together. How that girl is improving!"
"What do you mean? She always was a fine character."
"Yes, but she has so much more—er—sweetness and light."
"That's so. I've noticed it ever since she's been engaged."
"Well, don't you put on any more sweetness and light when you get engaged. I simply couldn't stand it! You're chock-a-block full of it now!"
"Don't worry. Besides, I've no intention of being engaged. What's the use, if I'm sweet and light enough now?"
"You're going to announce your engagement in just fifteen days from now, my lady. Why, that will be Farrington's wedding day! By Jove, what an idea! We'll announce it at their wedding!"
"We'll do nothing of the sort. You take too much for granted."
"Well, you promised–"
"I know what I promised. But the fifteenth is a long way off yet."
"That may be, but it's bound to get here. Come in the house now. It's too damp for you out here."
They went in, and found Mona and Elise chattering like two magpies, with Roger trying to get in a word edgeways.
"Hello, Patty," cried Mona, springing up to greet her. "My, how fine you're looking! Lakewood agrees with you all right. And Patty, the bridesmaids are going to sing, after all. Will you be home in time for one or two rehearsals?"
"Yes, indeed. I'll come up whenever you want me, Mona."
"Good girl. Now I must go and dress for dinner. I'd no idea we'd get here so late; and Roger says there's a party on for tonight."
"Yes," laughed Patty; "and it's a party you have to get keyed up to,—I mean your gown."
"What are you talking about?"
"Come along and I'll tell you."
The two girls went off together, and half an hour later Elise found them in Patty's room, still talking and no beginning made in the matter of dressing.
But later, when the young people left the house to go to the Studio party, they were resplendent of costume. Patty had told the other girls what Mr. Blaney had said, and though they scoffed at it, they agreed not to wear anything that might be too desperately inharmonious.
Mona was in white, declaring that that could offend nobody. Elise wore pale yellow, for the same logical reason. Patty had on a gown of soft chiffon, of old-gold colour, which, she said, was the nearest to saffron she had ever had or ever hoped to have.
"I don't like the word saffron," she declared; "somehow it makes me think of camomile tea."
"Naturally," said Roger; "I believe they're both yarbs. Blaney might call this affair a Saffron