Читать книгу: «Patty's Social Season», страница 3
CHAPTER IV
AN INVITATION
The next morning Patty started off in her own little electric runabout with Miller, the chauffeur.
She let him drive, and gave the address, as she stepped in, “The Monongahela Art Embroidery Company,” adding a number in lower Broadway.
The correct Miller could not suppress a slight smile as he said, “Where I took you once before, Miss Patty?” And Patty smiled, as she said, “Yes, Miller.”
But it was with a different feeling that she entered the big building this time, and she went straight to department B. On her way she met the red-headed boy who had so amused her when she was there a year ago.
He greeted her with the same lack of formality that had previously characterised him.
“Is youse up against it again?” he inquired, grinning broadly. “I t’ought youse didn’t get no cinch, and had to can de whole projick.”
“I’m not on the same ‘projick’ now,” said Patty, smiling at him. “Is department B in the same place?”
“Sure it is,” and for some reason the boy added, “miss,” after a momentary pause, which made Patty realise his different attitude toward her, now that she wore a more elaborate costume, than when he had seen her in a purposely plain little suit.
“And is the same lady still in charge of it?”
“Yep; dey ain’t nuttin’ lessen dynnimite goin’ to boost Mis’ Greene outen o’ here!”
“Then Mrs. Greene is the lady I want to see,” and Patty threaded her way through the narrow passages between the piled up boxes.
“No pass needed; she’s a free show,” the boy called after her, and in a moment Patty found herself again in the presence of the sharp-faced, tired-looking woman whom she had once interviewed regarding her embroidery work.
“This is Mrs. Greene, isn’t it?” said Patty, pleasantly.
“Yes, I am,” snapped the woman. “You don’t want work again, do you?”
“No,” said Patty, smiling, “I come this time on quite a different errand.”
“Then you don’t want to see me. I’m here only to give out work. Did Mr. Myers send you?”
“No, I came of my own accord. Now, Mrs. Greene, forget the work for a moment, and let me tell you what I want.”
“If it’s subscribin’ to any fund, or belongin’ to any working woman’s club run by you swell ladies, you can count me out. I ain’t got time for foolishness.”
“It isn’t anything like that,” and Patty laughed so merrily that Mrs. Greene’s hard face softened in spite of herself. “Well, what is it?” she asked, in a less belligerent tone.
“It’s only this,” and though Patty’s errand had seemed to her simple enough before she came in, she now began to wonder how Mrs. Greene would take it. “Some friends of mine and I are asking three or four people to lunch with us and take a little motor ride on Saturday, and I want you to come as my guest?”
“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 table is beautiful, Mona,” she said, suddenly bringing her attention from her own raiment to the festal preparation.
The girls had decided that, since Christmas was only about a fortnight away, it would be attractive to use Christmas decorations for their party. And so the round table showed crossed strips of broad red ribbon, under bands of lace, and a central decoration of a real Christmas tree, with beautiful fancy ornaments and colored electric lights. At each place was an elaborate bonbonnière of Christmas red, decked with sprays of holly. The place cards were Christmassy; and the little brooches they had bought, were in dainty boxes tied with holly ribbon.
“It’s perfectly lovely, Mona,” said Patty, enthusiastically. “There isn’t a bit too much of anything, and it’s just as cheery and jolly as it can be.”
“I thought I wouldn’t have any flowers on the table,” Mona explained, “for they didn’t go with the other things. So, you see, I’ve these four big bunches of red carnations around the room, and I shall give them each one to take home. Of course, I have boxes ready for them,—and then, Patty, I thought we’d distribute the Christmas tree decorations among them,—and I have the boxes big, so we can put those and the place-cards and candy-boxes and souvenirs all in them. And then, you know, it won’t seem like giving them things; for you know yourself how keen people are to take away their place cards and such things.”
“They are, indeed! I’ve been surprised the people who have everything will gather up their cards and trumpery boxes after a luncheon! And your thoughtfulness is lovely, Mona. We’ll each give them our own place-card and box, too.”
“Yes; and then, you see, they’ll have quite a few little things for their own Christmas, and that will make them remember the ‘bright spot’ all the more.”
“Of course it will! Mona, you’re a perfect darling!” And Patty grasped Mona’s shoulders and swung her about in a mad dance of jubilation.
“And, Patty,” Mona went on, “Mr. Lansing wants to help us with our Happy Saturdays Club. He says he could go with us some afternoon, to take a lot of newsboys to the circus.”
“Why, Mona Galbraith!” and Patty stared at her friend in astonishment. “Have you been telling him about our club?”
“Yes; of course, I have. It’s no secret society, is it?”
“No; but we don’t want men for members.”
“But, Patty, he would be a help. I’d love to give some of those poor little newsboys a good time, and we couldn’t do it, just by ourselves.”
Suddenly, Patty thought of “Rosy,” and her idea of including him in some of their plans. To be sure, it would be better to have a man to help manage such a project. But not Mr. Lansing!
“No, Mona,” she said; “our club is made up of just us four girls, and we can find plenty to do among girls or women. At least, for this winter. If it’s all a success, we can do more next winter, and perhaps get some men to help us then. If we want to take newsboys to the circus, father will go with us. Don’t be everlastingly dragging in that Mr. Lansing.”
“I’m not dragging him in! He kindly offered to help. But of course,—if you don’t want him–”
“Well, I don’t! And, look here, Mona, I wish you’d let him alone, yourself. He’s not like the men of our set, and I want you to realise that. Roger says he’s a bounder,—if you know what that is.”
“Pooh! Roger is jealous.”
“Yes, I think he is. But, aside from that, he’s right about Mr. Lansing not being the right kind of a friend for you. Philip Van Reypen says the same thing.”
“Oh, pshaw! Mr. Van Reypen is an old stuck-up! He thinks nobody is any good if they don’t begin their names with a Van.”
“Now, Mona, don’t be silly. I’m sure I don’t know what you see so admirable in Mr. Lansing, but I do think you ought to be advised by others who know better than you. Why, your own father doesn’t like him.”
“I know dad doesn’t; but—well, all the same, I do! Why, Patty, he’s awfully interesting, and he brings me flowers and candy and books–”
“Now, stop, Mona. You know you don’t care for those things! You can have all you want, without Mr. Lansing’s gifts. You like him, because he flatters you, and—well, I must admit that he has a way with him.”
“Oh, yes, Patty, he has! Why, when you know him, he’s really fascinating!”
“Well, don’t let him fascinate you. He’s loud, Mona. He’s not our sort. Now, do promise me to see less of him, won’t you? He seems to be calling on you very often.”
“Yes, he does. But how can I stop that? I can’t be rude to him.”
“Well, you can be cool. Every girl can discourage a man’s attentions, if she wants to.”
“H’m; you seem to know a great deal about it.”
“I only know what my common sense tells me. Mona, dear, do drop that man! Why, Roger is worth a dozen of him!”
“Roger’s all right,—but Mr. Lansing is so,—so,—well, he’s different.”
“He is, indeed! And that’s the trouble. The difference is all in Roger’s favour, if you only could see it.”
“Well, I can’t! Now, look here, Patty. You know how much I care for you, but I won’t have you talking to me like a Dutch Aunt. I made father bring me to New York this winter, so I could be near you, and we could have fun together. But, if you’re going to scold me all the time, we won’t have any fun at all.”
Patty began to realise that, though Mona might be coaxed, she could never be driven. So she concluded to drop the subject, and use more thought and tact in her endeavours to break up Mona’s new friendship.
And then Clementine Morse came, so the matter had to be laid aside.
“Is Jenny here?” asked Clementine, as she tossed off her furs.
“Jenny who?”
“My guest, Jenny Bisbee. She’s the ribbon girl I told you about. I had the greatest time to get her off for the afternoon. I had to go to Walker’s, you know, and see all sorts of Heads of Departments. My! they acted like Crowned Heads! They said it wouldn’t do at all,—it would establish a precedent,—and all sorts of things like that. But, somehow or other, I wheedled them into it, and at last they said Jenny might come. She was just crazy about it. She said, she never has any fun in her life, except looking at the new ribbons when they come in! Oh, girls, isn’t it awful never to have any fun? I expect Jenny will be embarrassed, but I’m sure she’ll enjoy it all. Oh, how lovely the table looks! Mona, you are a wonder! I never should have thought of all those Christmas fixings.”
“I’m glad you like them. Say, Clementine, don’t you think it would be nice to have men members in our club?”
“Why, I don’t know. No, I guess not, though my brother Clifford says it’s a great game, and he’d like to help us.”
“Yes, and I know another man who wants to help,” said Mona, eagerly, when Clementine interrupted her.
“I hope it isn’t that strange being you brought to Patty’s party! Wherever did you pick up that freak, Mona?”
“He isn’t a freak! Mr. Lansing is not a rich man, but he’s very exclusive. He told me so himself.”
“Don’t you believe it!” and Clementine laughed merrily. “As a rule, people who say themselves that they’re exclusive, are not. And one glance at that man is enough to show his standing.”
“What is his standing, then?” said Mona, sulkily.
“Outside the pale of society, if not outside the pale of civilisation,” retorted Clementine, who was plain-spoken.
“Don’t let’s talk about Mr. Lansing now,” broke in Patty, who feared an unpleasant element in their pleasant occasion. “And, anyway, here comes Elise.”
CHAPTER V
HAPPY GUESTS
Elise came in, bringing her guest with her. The three girls waiting in the sitting-room were surprised to see the small, dainty person whom Elise introduced as Miss Anna Gorman. She had a sweet, sad little face, and wore a simple one-piece gown of dove-grey voile. Her hat was grey, also; a turban shape, with a small knot of pink roses at one side. Anna was not pretty, but she had a refined air, and a gentle manner. Though embarrassed, she strove not to show it, and tried to appear at ease.
Mona greeted her cordially: “How do you do, Anna?” she said, for they had agreed to call the girls informally, by their Christian names. “I am glad to see you. Come with me into the boudoir, and lay off your coat.” Mona herself assisted, for she thought it better not to have her maid about.
“I’m well, thank you,” said Anna, in response to Mona’s inquiry, and then she broke out, impulsively: “Oh, I’m so happy to be here! It was so heavenly kind of you young ladies to ask me. You don’t know what it means to me!”
“Why, I’m very glad,” said Mona, touched at the girl’s gratitude. “Now, I hope you’ll just have the time of your life!”
“Oh, I shall, indeed! I know it. I’m enjoying every minute, just being in these lovely rooms, and seeing you kind ladies.”
Then Mona’s manicure girl came. Her name was Celeste Arleson, and she was a tall, slender young woman, garbed all in black. It was the gown she always wore at her work, and, being of French descent, she had an air of charm that made her attractive.
“Good-morning, Celeste; come right in,” said Mona, and then she introduced her to Anna.
The two looked at each other a little shyly, and then Anna said, “Good-morning,” in a timid way.
Mona felt embarrassed, too, and began to wonder if their party would be a failure, after all.
But Patty came in then and, with her ever-ready tact, took the two visitors to the drawing-room, and began to show them some pictures and curios.
Then Jenny Bisbee came, the girl from the ribbon counter, whom Clementine had invited.
“My, isn’t this fine!” she exclaimed, as she met the others. “I just do think it’s fine!”
“I’m glad we could arrange for you to come,” said Clementine, cordially.
“Glad! My gracious, I guess I’m glad! Well! if you measured ribbon from morning till night, I guess you’d be glad to get away from it for once. Why, I measure ribbon in my dreams, from night till morning. I can’t seem to get away from that everlasting stretching out of thirty-six inches, over and over again.”
“But the ribbons are so pretty,” said Clementine, by way of being agreeable.
“Yes; when they first come in. But after a few weeks you get so tired of the patterns. My, I feel as if I could throw that Dresden sash ribbon on the floor and stamp on it, I’m so tired of seeing it! And there’s one piece of gay brocade that hits me in the eye every morning. I can’t stand that piece much longer.”
“I’ll come round some day, and buy it,” said Patty, laughing good-naturedly. “I didn’t know the ribbons were so individual to you.”
“Yes, they are. There’s one piece of light blue satin ribbon, plain and wide, that I just love. It’s a real comfort to me.”
Jenny gave a little sigh, as she thought of her favourite ribbon, and Patty looked at her in wonderment, that she should be so sensitive to colour and texture. But her taste in colours did not seem to extend to her clothes. Jenny was a pale little thing, with ashy blonde hair, and large, light blue eyes. She wore a nondescript tan-coloured dress, without tone or shape; and she had a weary, exhausted air, as if chronically tired.
Conversation was a little difficult. The four hostesses tried their best to be entertaining without being patronising, but it was not an easy task. At least, their advances were not easily received, and the guests seemed to be on the alert to resent anything that savoured of patronage. But help came from an unexpected quarter. Just at one o’clock Mrs. Greene arrived.
“My land!” she exclaimed, as she entered the room, “if this isn’t grand! I wouldn’t of missed it for a farm! You see, I waited out on the corner, till it was just one o’clock. I know enough to get to a party just on the minute. My bringin’ up was good, if I have fell off a little since. But my folks was always awful particular people,—wouldn’t even take their pie in their hands. My husband, now, he was different. He wasn’t a fool, nor he wasn’t much else. But I only had him a year, and then he up and got killed in a rolling mill. Nice man, John, but not very forth-putting. So I’ve shifted for myself ever since. Not that I’ve done so awful well. I’m slow, I am. I never was one o’ those to sew with a hot needle and a scorching thread, but I do my stent right along. But, my! how I do rattle on! You might think I don’t often go in good society. Well, I don’t! So I must make the most of this chance.”
Mrs. Greene’s chatter had been broken in upon by introductions and greetings, but that bothered her not at all. She nodded her head affably at the different ones, but kept right on talking.
So Mona was fairly obliged to interrupt her.
“Now, let us go out to luncheon,” she said, after the maid had announced it twice.
“Glad to,” said Mrs. Greene. “Oh, my land! what a pretty sight!”
She stood stock still in the doorway, and had to be urged forward, in order that the others might follow.
“Well, I didn’t know a table could look so handsome!” she went on. “My land! I s’pose it’s been thirty years since I’ve went to a real party feast, and then, I can tell you, it wasn’t much like this!”
Probably not, for Mona’s table, with the coloured electric lights blazing from the pretty Christmas tree, the soft radiance of the room, the fragrance of flowers, the exquisite table appointments, and the pretty, kindly hostesses, was a scene well worthy of praise.
Anna Gorman trembled a little as she took her seat, and sat, wide-eyed, looking almost as if in a trance of delight. Celeste Arleson was less embarrassed, as her profession took her into fine mansions and in presence of fashionable people every day.
Jenny Bisbee looked rapturous. “Oh,” she said, “Oh! I am so happy!”
The guests all looked a trifle awestruck when the first course appeared, of grapefruit, served in tall, slender ice-glasses, each with a red ribbon tied round its stem, and a sprig of holly in the bow.
“Well, did you ever!” exclaimed Mrs. Greene. “And is this the way they do things now? Well, well! It does look ’most too good to eat, but I’m ready to tackle it.”
Anna Gorman looked a little pained, as if this homely enthusiasm jarred upon her sense of fitness. But Mona said hospitably, “Yes, indeed, Mrs. Greene,—it’s here to be eaten.”
“Now, I’m free to confess, I don’t know what spoon to take,” Mrs. Greene acknowledged, looking blankly at the row of flat silver before her.
“I know,” spoke up Jenny Bisbee, eagerly; “I read it in a Sunday paper. You begin at the outside of the row, and eat in!”
“Land! are you sure to come out right, that way? S’pose you had a fork left for your ice cream!”
“We’ll risk it,” said Mona, smiling. “Let’s use this spoon at the outside, as Jenny suggests.”
The second course was clam bouillon, and after it was served, a maid passed a dish of whipped cream.
Mrs. Greene watched carefully as Mona placed a spoonful on the top of her soup, and then she exclaimed:
“Well, if that don’t beat all! What is that, might I ask?”
“Whipped cream,” said Mona. “Won’t you have some?”
“Well, I will,—as you took some. But if that ain’t the greatest! Now, just let me tell you. A friend of mine,—she has seen some high society,—she was telling me a little how to behave. And she told me of a country person she knew, who had some soup in a cup once. And he thought it was tea, and he ca’mly puts in milk and sugar! Well, he was just kerflum-mixed, that poor man, when he found it was soup! So, my friend says, says she: ‘Now, Almira, whatever you do, don’t put milk in your soup!’ And, I declare to goodness, here you’re doin’ just that very thing!”
“Well, we won’t put any sugar in,” said Mona, pleasantly; “but I think the cream improves it. You like it, don’t you, Jenny?”
“Heavenly!” said Jenny, rolling her eyes up with such a comically blissful expression that Elise nearly choked.
As Patty had agreed, the luncheon was good and substantial, rather than elaborate. The broiled chicken, dainty vegetables, and pretty salad all met the guests’ hearty approval and appreciation; and when the ice cream was served, Mrs. Greene discovered she had both a fork and a spoon at her disposal.
“Well, I never!” she observed. “Ain’t that handy, now? I s’pose you take whichever one you like.”
“Yes,” said Mona. “You see, there is strawberry sauce for the ice cream, and that makes it seem more like a pudding.”
“So it does, so it does,” agreed Mrs. Greene, “though, land knows, it ain’t much like the puddin’s I’m accustomed to. Cottage, rice, and bread is about the variety we get, in the puddin’ line. Not but what I’m mighty grateful to get those.”
“I like chocolate pudding,” said Jenny, in a low voice, and apparently with great effort. Patty knew she made the remark because she thought it her duty to join in the conversation; and she felt such heroism deserved recognition.
“So do I,” she said, smiling kindly at Jenny. “In fact, I like anything with chocolate in it.”
“So do I,” returned Jenny, a little bolder under this expressed sympathy of tastes. “Once I had a whole box of chocolate candies,—a pound box it was. I’ve got the box yet. I’m awful careful of the lace paper.”
“I often get boxes of candy,” said Celeste, unable to repress this bit of vanity. “My customers give them to me.”
“My,” said Jenny, “that must be fine. Is it grand to be a manicure?”
“I like it,” said Celeste, “because it takes me among nice people. They’re mostly good to me.”
“My ladies are nice to me, too,” observed Anna. “I only sew in nice houses. But I don’t see the ladies much. It’s different with you, Miss Arleson.”
“Well, I don’t see nice ladies,” broke in Jenny. “My, how those queens of society can snap at you! Seems ’if they blame me for everything: the stock, the price, the slow cash boys,—whatever bothers ’em, it’s all my fault.”
“That is unkind,” said Clementine. “But shopping does make some people cross.”
“Indeed it does!” returned Jenny. “But I’m going to forget it just for to-day. When I sit here and see these things, all so beautiful and sparkly and bright, I pretend there isn’t any shop or shopping in all the world.”
Jenny’s smile was almost roguish, and lighted up her pale face till she looked almost pretty.
Then they had coffee, and snapping crackers with caps inside, and they put on the caps and laughed at each other’s grotesque appearance.
Mrs. Greene’s cap was a tri-corne, with a gay cockade, which gave her a militant air, quite in keeping with her strong face. Patty had a ruffled night-cap, which made her look grotesque, and Anna Gorman had a frilled sunbonnet.
Celeste had a Tam o’ Shanter, which just suited her piquant face, and Jenny had a Scotch cap, which became her well.
“Now,” said Mona, as she rose from the table, “I’m going to give you each a bunch of these carnations–”
“To take home?” broke in Jenny, unable to repress her eagerness.
“Yes; and I’ll have them put in boxes for you, along with your cards and souvenirs, which, of course, you must take home also. And, if there’s room, I’ll put in some of these Christmas tree thingamajigs, and you can use them for something at Christmas time.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Jenny; “maybe my two kid brothers won’t just about go crazy over ’em! Says I to myself, just the other day, ‘What’s going in them kids’ stockings is more’n I know; but something there must be.’ And,—here you are!”
“Here you are!” said Mona, tucking an extra snapping cracker or two in Jenny’s box.
“We plan to go for a motor ride, now,” said Mona. “I wonder if you girls are dressed warmly enough.”
All declared that they were, but Mona provided several extra cloaks and wraps, lest any one should take cold.
“We have two cars for our trip,” she explained; “Miss Farrington’s limousine and my own. Has any one any preference which way we shall go?”
“Well,” said Mrs. Greene, “if you ask me, I’d like best to ride up Fifth Avenue. There ought to be some fine show of dress, a bright afternoon like this. And there ain’t anything I admire like stylish clothes. That’s a real handsome gown you got on, Miss Fairfield.”
“Do you like it?” said Patty, smiling.
“Yes, I do. It’s fashionable of cut, and yet it ain’t drawed so tight as some. And a becomin’ colour, too.”
“It’s a dandy,” observed Jenny. “I see lots of good clothes on my customers, but they don’t all have such taste as Miss Fairfield’s. And all you other ladies here,” she added, politely, glancing round.
“Now, are we all ready?” asked Mona, looking over the group. “Mrs. Greene, I fear you won’t be warm enough, though your jacket is thick, isn’t it? But I’m going to throw this boa round your neck, by way of precaution. Please wear it; I have another.”
“My land! if this ain’t luxuriant,” and Mrs. Greene smoothed the neckpiece and muff that Mona put on her. “What is this fur, Miss Galbraith?”
“That is caracul. Do you like it?”
“Like it? Well, I think it’s just too scrumptious for anything. I’ll remember the feel of it for a year. And so genteel looking, too.”
“Yes, it’s a good fur,” said Mona, carelessly throwing a sable scarf round her own throat. “Now, let us start.”
Down went the eight in an elevator, and Mrs. Greene was overjoyed to find that she was attended with quite as much deference as Mona herself. Elise and Clementine took their guests in the Farrington car, leaving Patty and Mona, with their guests, for the Galbraith car.
