Patty's Friends. Wells Carolyn

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СКАЧАТЬ tea was over and the party rose from the table, Mr. Pauncefote detained Patty for a moment’s chat, while the others broke up into smaller groups or wandered away.

      “I want you to meet my daughter,” he was saying; “the young lady in gray over there, talking to Sir Otho.”

      “Sir Otho who?” said Patty, quickly, forgetting to respond in regard to Miss Pauncefote.

      “Sir Otho Markleham; see the large gentleman with gold-rimmed glasses. She is my youngest daughter, and I know she’d be glad to meet you.”

      “I’d be delighted,” said Patty, but her attention centred on Sir Otho.

      Could it be that was Lady Hamilton’s severe father? He did not look so obstinate as she had imagined him, but as she drew nearer, she observed the firm set of his square jaw and reversed her opinion.

      Sir Otho was very tall and big, and his smoothly brushed hair was light brown without a trace of gray.

      He wore closely-trimmed whiskers, of the style known as “mutton-chop,” and his cold gray eyes almost glittered as he looked through his glasses. The introduction to Miss Pauncefote implied also an introduction to Sir Otho, and in a moment Patty found herself chatting in a group of which Lady Kitty’s father was one.

      There was something about the big man that awed her, and she naturally fell into conversation with Miss Pauncefote, while the two gentlemen talked together. But as they were all about to separate, and even after Sir Otho had said good-afternoon, Patty hesitated irresolutely for a second, and then turned back toward him again.

      “Sir Otho,” she said, timidly.

      “Well, ma’am, what is it?” was the response as he turned in surprise to look at her.

      “I am very glad to meet you,” said Patty, and as soon as the words were uttered, she realised how absurd they were.

      “Thank you, ma’am,” said the puzzled gentleman. He was very unresponsive, and showed in his face that he thought little of this exhibition of American forwardness.

      “Especially so,” Patty went on, “because I know your daughter, Lady Hamilton.”

      “Bless my soul!” ejaculated Sir Otho Markleham, the red blood dyeing his large face crimson, and his eyes fairly snapping with anger.

      “Yes, I do,” went on Patty, resolved now to plunge in desperately, “and she sent you these flowers.”

      Patty had previously detached two or three of the prettiest sprays of the lilies of the valley, and now held them out, with the air of one fulfilling a trust.

      For a moment Sir Otho Markleham looked as if he would really like to pitch the American girl and her flowers into the river, and then, almost mechanically, he took the blossoms from Patty’s hand.

      Then, with a straight, cold stare at her, he said, in a hard voice: “I have no daughter,” and after a stiff, formal bow, he walked away.

      CHAPTER V

      MISS YANKEE DOODLE

      “You didn’t, really!” exclaimed Lady Hamilton, as Patty gleefully described giving the flowers to Sir Otho Markleham.

      “But I did, Kitty, and truly, he was mad enough to pitch me into that yellow muddy old river. I greatly admire his self-control in not really doing it. But what eyes he has! So gray and steely, they cut right through me! And he just said, tragically, ‘I have no daughter,’ and stalked away. But—and this is the main thing—he kept the flowers!”

      “How do you know?”

      “I watched him. I fully expected he’d fling them straight over Parliament House, but he didn’t. He didn’t even throw them on the stone floor of the Terrace, and gr-r-rind them ’neath his iron heel! I can’t say that he put them in his button-hole, for his back was toward me, but I know he kept them.”

      “Oh, Patty, you are a silly! You think you’ve gone far toward healing the family feud of the Marklehams. But you haven’t. My father gave the whole episode no thought at all, unless it was to think of you as an impertinent child.”

      “Well, it was a wedge,” said Patty, doggedly, “and if I ever get another chance at him, I’ll hammer it in.”

      “No, don’t, Patty dear; you mean well, I know, but you don’t know father’s disposition. If he thought you were an intermediary, he’d be more stubborn than ever.”

      “Huh!” said Patty, more expressively than politely; “I’m not going to make any trouble. Trust your Aunt Patty for that!”

      Lady Hamilton laughed, as she always did at Patty’s funny American phrases, and the subject of Sir Otho was dropped.

      “Better not mix yourself up in other people’s quarrels,” said Mr. Fairfield, when Patty told him about it. “Your motive is a good one, but an Englishman is not apt to brook interference from an outsider, especially an American.”

      “Oh, pshaw, Fred; Patty won’t do any harm,” said Nan. “Patty’s tact is a match for any English temper, and if she could bring about a reconciliation, I’d be so glad for that sweet Lady Hamilton.”

      “All right; I give in. When you two are against me, I hold up my hands.”

      “We’re not against you, Daddy,” said Patty, smiling fondly at her father. “You’re on our side, only you don’t quite realise it.”

      “I told you she had tact,” laughed Nan, “and she grows cleverer every day; don’t you, Stepdaughter?”

      “Yes, Stepmother,” replied Patty, gazing at Nan in mock adoration; “since I have you for a model, how could I do otherwise?”

      “You’re a pair of sillies,” said Mr. Fairfield, laughing at their nonsense, “and in a vain endeavour to improve your minds, I think I’ll read aloud to you.”

      “Oh, goody!” cried Patty, for they both loved to hear Mr. Fairfield read. “And mayn’t I ask Lady Kitty to come in? She’ll sit still as a mouse, I know.”

      “Certainly, my child; ask any one you like. If you see any people in the corridors, bring them back with you. Perhaps the elevator man will come.”

      “’Deed he won’t be asked,” said Patty, indignantly. “I just want my sweet, lovely Lady Kitty.”

      The sweet, lovely lady was pleased to come, and did indeed sit still as a mouse, listening to Mr. Fairfield’s fine reading.

      Then Patty sang one or two of her newest songs, and then Nan declared they must all go down to the Grill Room for a Welsh Rabbit.

      This plan enchanted Patty, and after a moment’s hesitation, Lady Hamilton agreed. So the evening proved a merry little festivity, and Patty went to bed healthily tired, but healthily happy.

      Bob Hartley did not forget his promise to ask Patty to the Garden Party at Regent’s Park, and Patty gladly accepted the invitation.

      “The only thing that bothers me,” she said to Nan, “is that the Hartleys don’t seem to have much money, and at a Charity Garden Party there are so many ways to spend, that I fear I’ll be a burden to them. It makes СКАЧАТЬ