Patty's Social Season. Wells Carolyn
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Название: Patty's Social Season

Автор: Wells Carolyn

Издательство: Public Domain

Жанр: Зарубежная классика

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СКАЧАТЬ combined to make her, as was not unusual, the most popular girl present.

      “Anything left for me?” asked Roger, gaily, as he threaded the crowds at Patty’s side.

      “I saved one for you,” said Patty, smiling at him; “for I hoped you’d ask me, sooner or later.”

      Roger gratefully accepted the dance Patty had saved for him, and soon after he came to claim her for it.

      “I say, Patty,” he began when they were whirling about the floor, “who is that stuff Mona has trailing after her?”

      “Moderate your language, Roger,” said Patty, smiling up at him, and noticing that his expression was very wrathy indeed.

      “He doesn’t deserve moderate language! He’s a bounder, if I ever saw one! What’s he doing here?”

      “He seems to be dancing,” said Patty, demurely, “and he doesn’t dance half badly, either.”

      “Oh, stop your fooling, Patty; I’m not in the mood for it. Tell me who he is.”

      Patty had never known Roger to be so out of temper, and she resented his tone, which was almost rude. Now, for all her sweetness, Patty had a touch of perversity in her nature, and Roger had roused it. So she said: “I don’t know why you speak like that, Roger. He’s a friend of Mona’s, and lives at the Hotel Plaza, where she lives.”

      “The fact that two people live in the same big hotel doesn’t give them the right to be friends,” growled Roger. “Who introduced them, anyhow?”

      “I don’t know, I’m sure,” said Patty, her patience exhausted; “but Mr. Galbraith knows him, so it must be all right.”

      Patty was not quite ingenuous in this speech, for she knew perfectly well, from what Mr. Galbraith had said to her, that it was not all right. But she was irritated by Roger’s demeanour, and perversely disagreed with him.

      “Well, I don’t believe he’s all right; I don’t like his looks a bit, and, Patty, you know as well as I do, that the Galbraiths are not quite competent always to select the people best worth knowing.”

      “Oh, what a fuss you are, Roger; and it’s hardly fair when you don’t know anything at all about Mr. Lansing.”

      “Do you?”

      “No,” and then Patty hesitated. She did know something,—she knew what Mr. Galbraith had told her. But she was not of a mind to tell this to Roger. “I only met him as I was introduced,” she said, “and Mona has never so much as even mentioned him to me.”

      “Didn’t she ask you if she might bring him to-night?”

      “No; I suppose, as an intimate friend, she didn’t think that necessary.”

      “It was necessary, Patty, and you know it, if Mona doesn’t. Now, look here; you and I are Mona’s friends; and if there are any social matters that she isn’t quite familiar with, it’s up to us to help her out a little. And I, for one, don’t believe that man is the right sort for her to be acquainted with; and I’m going to find out about him.”

      “Well, I’m sure I’m willing you should, Roger; but you needn’t make such a bluster about it.”

      “I’m not making a bluster, Patty.”

      “You are so!”

      “I am not!”

      And then they both realised that they were bickering like two children, and they laughed simultaneously as they swept on round the dancing-room. The music stopped just then, and as they were near a window-seat, Patty sat down for a moment. “You go on, Roger,” she said, “and hunt up your next partner, or fight a duel with Mr. Lansing, or do whatever amuses you. My partner will come to hunt me up, I’m sure, and I’ll just wait here.”

      “Who is your next partner, Patty?”

      “Haven’t looked at my card; but, never mind, he’ll come. You run along.”

      As Roger’s next partner was Mona, and as he was anxious to talk to her about her new friend, Roger obeyed Patty’s bidding and strolled away.

      Patty sat alone for a moment, knowing full well who was her next partner, and then Mr. Lansing appeared and made a low bow before her.

      Now, Patty had not chosen to express to Roger her real opinion of this new man, but in reality she did not approve of him. Though fairly good-looking and correctly dressed, there was about him a certain something—or perhaps, rather, he lacked a certain something that invariably stamps the well-bred man. He stared at Patty a trifle too freely; he sat down beside her with a little too much informality; and he began conversation a little too familiarly. All of these things Patty saw and resented, but as hostess she could not, of course, be openly rude.

      “Nice, jolly rooms you’ve got here for a party,” Mr. Lansing remarked, rolling his eyes about appreciatively, “and a jolly lot of people, too. Some class to ’em!”

      Patty looked at him coldly. She was not accustomed to this style of expression. Her friends perhaps occasionally used a slang word or term, but it was done in a spirit of gaiety or as a jest, whereas this man used his expressions as formal conversation.

      “Yes, I have many kind and delightful friends,” said Patty, a little stiffly.

      “You sure have! Rich, too, most of ’em.”

      Patty made no response to this, and Mr. Lansing turned suddenly to look at her. “I say, Miss Fairfield, do you know what I think? I think you are prejudiced against me, and I think somebody put you up to it, and I think I know who. Now, look here, won’t you give me a fair show? Do you think it’s just to judge a man by what other people say about him?”

      “How do you know I’ve heard anything about you, Mr. Lansing?”

      “Well, you give me the icy glare before I’ve said half a dozen words to you! So, take it from me, somebody’s been putting you wise to my defects.”

      He wagged his head so sagaciously at this speech, that Patty was forced to smile. On a sudden impulse, she decided to speak frankly. “Suppose I tell you the truth, Mr. Lansing, that I’m not accustomed to being addressed in such—well, in such slangy terms.”

      “Oh, is that it? Pooh, I’ll bet those chums of yours talk slang to you once in a while.”

      “What my chums may do is no criterion for an absolute stranger,”—and now Patty spoke very haughtily indeed.

      “That’s so, Miss Fairfield; you’re dead right,—and I apologise. But, truly, it’s a habit with me. I’m from Chicago, and I believe people use more slang out there.”

      “The best Chicago people don’t,” said Patty, seriously.

      Mr. Lansing smiled at her, a trifle whimsically.

      “I’m afraid I don’t class up with the best people,” he confessed; “but if it will please you better, I’ll cut out the slang. Shall we have a turn at this two-step?”

      Patty rose without a word, and in a moment they were circling the floor. Mr. Lansing was a good dancer, and especially skilful in guiding his partner. Patty, herself such an expert dancer, was СКАЧАТЬ