Patty's Friends. Wells Carolyn

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СКАЧАТЬ matters to be discussed. Skip to bed, chickabiddy, and dream of the Stars and Stripes, lest you forget them entirely.”

      “Never!” cried Patty, striking a dramatic attitude.

      “Though English people may be grand,

      My heart is in my native land!”

      And humming the Star-spangled Banner, she went away to her own room.

      CHAPTER III

      THE WHITE LADY

      “I feel in a gay mood,” said Nan, as she clasped Patty round the waist, and always ready for a dance, Patty fell into step, and the two waltzed round the room, while Patty sang tum-te-tum to the air of a popular song.

      “As if you two ever felt any other way!” exclaimed Mr. Fairfield, smiling at them from the depths of his easy chair. “But what does this gay mood betoken? I suppose you want to drag me out to the theatre or opera to-night.”

      Mr. Fairfield’s pleasant smile belied his pretense at sharpness, and he waited to hear a reply.

      “That would be lovely,” said Nan, “and we’ll go if you invite us. But what I had in mind is this: I’d like to dine in the Restaurant.”

      “Good!” cried Mr. Fairfield. “I feel gay enough for that, myself, and we haven’t dined there for nearly a week.”

      The Fairfields had a complete apartment of their own, and when not invited out, usually dined quietly in their own dining-room. But occasionally, when the mood took them, they dined in the great Savoy Restaurant, which was a festive pageant indeed.

      Patty loved to sit at a table there, and watch the beautiful women in their elaborate gowns, and their handsome, stalwart escorts, who were sometimes in brave uniforms.

      The splendid scene would have palled upon them, had they dined there every evening, but as a change from their small family dinner it was delightful.

      “We’ll wear our dress-up frocks,” said Patty, “and perhaps my White Lady will be there again.”

      “Your White Lady?” asked Nan. “Who is she?”

      “That’s just what I can’t find out, though I’ve asked several people. But she’s the most beautiful lady, with a haughty, proud face, and sad eyes. She always wears white, and there’s an elderly lady who is sometimes with her. A strange-looking old lady in black, she is; and her face is like a hawk’s.”

      “Oh, I remember those people; they always sit at the same table.” “Yes, I think they live here. But she is so sweet and lovely I’d like to know her. I make up stories about her all to myself. She’s like Ginevra or the Lady of Shalott.”

      “You’re too fanciful, Patty. Probably she’s the Duchess of Hardscrabble.”

      “She looks like a Duchess, anyway. And also, she looks like a simple, sweet, lovely lady. I’m going to ask father to find out who she is.”

      A little later the Fairfields went down to dinner.

      Nan wore an exquisite gown of embroidered yellow satin, and Patty wore a frilled white silk muslin. It was a little low at the throat, and was very becoming to her, and in and out of her piled-up curls was twisted a broad white ribbon, which ended in front in a saucy cluster of bows, after the prevailing fashion.

      “This is great fun,” said Patty, as she took her seat with a little sigh of content. “I just love the lights and flowers and music and noise–”

      “Can you distinguish the music from the noise?” asked her father, laughing.

      “I can if I try, but I don’t care whether I do or not. I love the whole conglomeration of sounds. People laughing and talking, and a sort of undertone of glass and china and waiters.”

      “That sounds graphic,” said Nan, “but the waiters here aren’t supposed to make any noise.”

      “No, I know it, but they’re just part of the whole scene, and it’s all beautiful together. Oh, there’s my White Lady!”

      It was indeed a charming young woman who was just entering the room. She was tall and very slender, with a face serene and sweet. Her large, dark eyes had a look of resignation, rather than sadness, but the firm set of her scarlet lips did not betoken an easily-resigned nature.

      With her was the elder lady of whom Patty had spoken. She was sharp-featured and looked as if she were sharp-tempered. She wore a rather severe evening gown of black net, and in her gray hair was a quivering black aigrette.

      In contrast to this dark figure, the younger lady looked specially fair and sweet. Her trailing gown was of heavy white lace, and round her beautiful throat were two long strings of pearls. She wore no other ornament save for a white flower in her hair, and her shoulders and arms were almost as white as the soft tulle that billowed against them.

      It chanced that Mr. Fairfield’s table was quite near the one usually occupied by these two, and Patty watched the White Lady, without seeming to stare at her.

      “Isn’t she exquisite?” she said, at last, for they were not within earshot, and Nan agreed that she was.

      As the dinner proceeded, Patty glanced often at the lady of her admiration, and after a time was surprised and a little embarrassed to find that the White Lady was glancing at her.

      Fearing she had stared more frankly than she realised, Patty refrained from looking at the lady again, and resolutely kept her eyes turned in other directions.

      But as if drawn by a magnet, she felt impelled to look at her once more, and giving a quick glance, she saw the White Lady distinctly smiling at her. There was no mistake, it was a kind, amused little smile of a most friendly nature.

      Patty was enchanted, and the warm blood rushed to her cheeks as if she had been singled out for a great honour. But frankly, and without embarrassment, she smiled back at the lovely face, and returned the pleased little nod that was then given her.

      “Patty, what are you doing?” said Nan; “do you see any one you know?”

      “No,” said Patty, slowly, almost as one in a dream, “my White Lady smiled at me,—that’s all,—so I smiled back at her, and then we bowed.”

      “You mustn’t do such things,” said Nan, half smiling herself, “she’ll think you’re a forward American.”

      “I am an American,” replied Patty, “and I’d be sorry to be called backward.”

      “You never will be,” said her father. “Well, I suppose you may smile at her, if she smiles first, but don’t begin sending her anonymous notes.”

      “Nonsense,” said Patty, “but you two don’t know how lovely she is when she smiles.”

      Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield were seated with their backs to the lady in question, and could not see her without slightly turning their heads, while Patty, opposite them at the round table, faced her directly.

      “You’re fortunate in your position,” observed her father, “for were you seated here and we there, of course she would have beamed upon us.”

      “She isn’t beaming,” cried Patty, СКАЧАТЬ