Patty's Social Season. Wells Carolyn

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      “What!” and Mrs. Greene’s face was blank with amazement, but her manner betokened an impending burst of wrath.

      Patty realised that the woman’s pride was up in arms at the idea of patronage, and she was at her wit’s end how to make the real spirit of her invitation understood.

      As it chanced, she unwittingly took the right tack. So earnest was she that her lips quivered a little, and her eyes showed a pleading, pathetic expression, as she said, “Please don’t misunderstand me, Mrs. Greene. If you would enjoy it, I want you to come to our party on Saturday as our welcome guest. If you wouldn’t enjoy it,—just say so,—but—but don’t scold me!”

      Mrs. Greene looked puzzled, and then the hard, stern mouth broke into an actual smile.

      “Well, I declare,” she said, “I do believe you’ve got a real heart!”

      “And I do believe that you have!” exclaimed Patty. “And, now that we know the truth about each other, you’ll come, won’t you?”

      “Tell me about it,” and the speaker seemed still uncertain, though wavering.

      So Patty told her, honestly and straightforwardly, the circumstances of the party, and wound up by saying, “I truly want you, Mrs. Greene, for the simple reason that I want you to enjoy the afternoon,—and for no other reason.”

      “And I’ll come, and be awful glad of the chance! Why, I’ve never had a ride in a motor car in my life, and I’ve never eaten in one of those fandangle hotels; and the way you put it, I’m just crazy to go!”

      “Do you have holiday Saturday afternoon?”

      “Yes, all these downtown places do.”

      “Very well, then, I shall expect you at the Plaza at one o’clock. Ask for Miss Galbraith, and they will show you right up to her rooms.”

      “Land! it does seem too good to be true! Say, Miss Fairfield, I’ve only got a black mohair to wear,—will that do?”

      “Of course it will. Maybe you’ve a pretty bit of embroidery or something to lighten it up a little.”

      “Yes, I’ve got a linjerry collar and cuffs that I’ve just been achin’ to wear ever since my sister gave them to me last Christmas.”

      “Then I shall expect you on Saturday, and I’m so glad.”

      With a smiling bow, Patty started away, but she saw by Mrs. Greene’s face, there was something left unsaid.

      “What is it?” she asked, kindly, stepping back again to the counter.

      “Say, Miss Fairfield,” and Mrs. Greene twisted her fingers a little nervously, “don’t think this is queer,—but won’t you wear one of your real pretty dresses? I do like to see a pretty, stylish dress,—and I never get a chance.”

      “Of course I will,” said Patty, heartily; “I’ve a brand-new one that I’ve never worn, and I’ll honour the occasion with it, on Saturday.”

      And then Patty went away, greatly pleased at her success.

      “Had quite a buzz, didn’t yer?” observed the red-headed boy, looking at Patty with curiosity, as she passed him.

      “Yes, I did. By the way, young man, what is your name?”

      “Rosy; should think you’d know without askin’,” and he grabbed a bunch of his red hair with a comical grin.

      “Well, I didn’t know whether it was that or Freckles,” said Patty, who was moved to chaff him, by reason of his good-natured camaraderie.

      “Might just as well ‘a’ been,” and Rosy grinned wider than ever.

      Patty nodded a good-bye, and went on, rapidly turning over in her mind a new plan that would include Rosy in some future happy Saturday afternoon. But this plan must wait for development, as the coming Saturday was enough to occupy her thoughts for the present.

      “Home, Miller,” she said, as she took her seat. Miller gave a relieved sigh, for he was always more or less afraid of Patty’s escapades; and he didn’t like to have her go alone into these strange buildings.

      They whizzed homeward, and at luncheon time Patty gave Nan a graphic account of her interview with Mrs. Greene.

      “I think that’s the funniest of all,” said Nan, “that she should want you to wear your elaborate clothes.”

      “So do I,” said Patty. “We girls had planned to wear our plainest dresses, thinking to make our guests feel more at ease. And when Madame Greene spoke of her black mohair, I thought I’d even rip the trimming off my brown waist! But not so,—far otherwise. So I shall get me into that new American Beauty satin, and I hope to goodness it will suit her taste. I expect she’s fearfully critical.”

      “Perhaps the other girls’ guests won’t feel as Mrs. Greene does about this matter. What then?”

      “Now, Nan, don’t stir up trouble! I have only my own guest to look after, and I shall dress my part. The others will have to do as seemeth unto them best. Oh, Nan, it’s going to be heaps of fun!”

      “Yes, if it turns out right,—without any awkwardness or embarrassment.”

      “Oh, you old wet blanket! Now, you know perfectly well, we’re doing our best. And if we’re awkward, we can’t help it. We’re going this afternoon to get the favours. What do you think of little pins,—silver gilt, or enamel?”

      “They’d be all right, or hatpins, either.”

      “No, hatpins everybody has. And they don’t show, anyhow. That amethyst one of mine always hides itself behind a bow or a feather. No; I’m sure a nice little round brooch is the best thing.”

      “How about gloves?”

      “Or overshoes? or knitted wash-cloths? Nan, can’t I bang it into your head that this affair is for pleasure, not profit? Would you give your luncheon guests gloves as souvenirs?”

      “I suppose you’re right, Patty. But it is an experiment.”

      “Of course it is! And it’s going to be a successful one, and the forerunner of many others!”

      Half an hour before luncheon time, Patty walked into Mona’s dining-room. She wore her new gown of American Beauty satin, softly draped with a thin black marquisette, and a soft sash of black satin. Her hat was all black, with a Beauty rose tucked under the brim, and resting against her fair hair.

      Mona surveyed her with delight. “You look unusually well, Patty,—but that’s not saying anything unusual, for you always look unusually well.”

      “Good gracious, Mona, what kind of English is that? And a doubtful compliment beside! But I see you’re preoccupied, so I shan’t expect much appreciation of my new costume. Simple but tasty, isn’t it?”

      As she spoke, Patty was looking at herself in a long mirror and craning her neck to get a view of her back. She was fond of pretty clothes, and her new gown, though rich, was really simple in line and colouring.

      “Your СКАЧАТЬ