Patty's Success

“Patty, stop your fooling. I was quite in earnest.”

“Then you’d better begin fooling. It’s more sensible than your earnestness. Now, I’m going to run away to bed and leave you to dream that you’re a circus-rider, whizzing round a ring on a snow-white Arab steed. Good-night, girlie.”

Alone in her room, Patty smiled to herself at Elise’s foolishness. And yet, though she had no desire to be an actress, Patty had sometimes dreamed of herself as a concert singer, enchanting her audiences with her clear, sweet voice, which was fine and true, if not great. She was ambitious, though as yet not definitely so, and Elise’s words had roused a dormant desire to be or to do something worth while, and not, as she thought to herself, be a mere social butterfly.

Then she smiled again as she thought of Elise’s talk about Ken and Roger.

But here no answering chord was touched. As chums, she thoroughly liked both boys, but the thought of any more serious liking only roused a feeling of amusement in her mind.

“Perhaps I may be glad to have somebody in love with me some day,” she thought; “but it will be many years from now, and meantime I want to do a whole lot of things that are really worth doing.”

Then, with a whimsical thought that to sleep was the thing most worth doing at the present moment, Patty tumbled into the soft, white nest prepared for her and was soon sound asleep.

Christmas Day was one of the finest. No snow, but a clear, cold, bracing air, that was exhilarating to breathe.

“Skating this afternoon?” said Roger, after the Merry Christmas greetings had been exchanged.

“Yes, indeed,” cried Patty and Elise in one breath.

“Let’s get up a party, shall us?” went on Roger, “and skate till dusk, and then all come back here and have tea under the Christmas tree?”

“Lovely!” cried Elise, but Patty hesitated.

“You know we have the dance on for to-night,” she said.

Patty was not robust, and continuous exertions often tired her. Nan had cautioned her not to attempt too much gaiety during this visit, and she wanted to rest before the evening’s dance.

“Oh, pshaw!” said Elise, “there’ll be lots of time. The dance won’t begin till nine, anyway.”

So Patty agreed, and Roger went off to invite his skating party by telephone.

He secured Kenneth, and the two Morses, and then he hung up the receiver.

“That’s enough,” he declared. “I don’t like a big skating party. Slip away, girls, and get your bonnets and shawls; the car’ll be here in half an hour.”

The girls went off to dress, and Patty viewed her new skating costume with decided approval.

It was all of white. A white cloth frock, with short skirt; white broadcloth coat and a Russian turban of white cloth and fur; long white leather leggings, and her Christmas furs, which added a charming touch to the costume.

As being more comfortable for skating, she had returned to her former mode of hair-dressing, and so two big white ribbon bows bloomed at the back of her head. These, and the short skirt, quite took away Patty’s grown-up air, and made her seem a little girl again.

“Hello, Baby,” said Roger, as he saw her come downstairs, with rosy cheeks and eyes sparkling with pleasurable anticipation, for Patty loved to skate.

“Mam-ma!” said Patty, putting her finger in her mouth, and assuming a vacant, babyish stare.

Roger laughed at her foolishness, and then Elise came along and they all went out to the car.

Elise’s suit was of crimson cloth, bordered with dark fur, and as a consequence the two girls together made a pretty picture.

“You’re such a comfort, Patty,” Elise said, as they climbed into the big car. “You always dress just right to harmonise with my clothes.”

“Sure you do!” said Roger, looking at the two girls admiringly. “No fellow on the ice will escort such beautiful ladies as I have in my charge. Now, we’ll pick up Ken and the Morses, and then make a dash for the Pole.”

They reached the Park by three o’clock, so had nearly two hours of skating before the dusk fell.

Patty was a superior skater, and so were most of the others, for Roger had chosen his party with care.

“Skate with me, Patty, will you?” said Roger, just at the same moment that Kenneth said, “Of course you’ll skate with me, Patty.”

Patty looked at both boys with a comical smile. “Thank you,” she said; “but I always like to pick out my own escort.” Then, turning to Clifford Morse, she said:

“Skate with me, won’t you, Cliff? We’re a good team.”

“We are that!” he replied, greatly pleased, if a little surprised at Patty’s invitation.

Kenneth and Roger grinned at each other, and then turned quickly to the other girls, who had not heard the little parley.

Of course Roger skated with Clementine Morse, and Kenneth with Elise, which arrangement quite satisfied the dark-eyed beauty.

“You look like Little Red Riding-hood,” said Kenneth, as they started off, with long, gliding strokes.

“Don’t be a wolf, and eat me up,” laughed Elise, for Kenneth had fur on his cap and overcoat, and with his big fur gloves, seemed almost like some big, good-natured animal.

“You skate beautifully, Elise,” said Kenneth, “and all you girls do. Look at Clementine; isn’t she graceful?”

“Yes,” agreed Elise, “and so is Patty.”

“Patty,” echoed Kenneth. “She is a poem on ice!”

She was, and Elise knew it, but a naughty little jealousy burned in her heart at Ken’s words.

She bravely tried to down it, however, and said: “Yes, she is. She’s a poem in every way.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. In some ways she’s more of a jolly, merry jingle.”

“A nonsense rhyme,” suggested Elise, falling in with his metaphor.

“Yes; how quick you are to see what I mean. Now, Clementine is a lyric,—she glides so gracefully along.”

“And I?” asked Elise, laughing at his witty characterisation.

“You? Well, I can’t judge unless I see you. Skate off by yourself.”

Elise did so, and Kenneth watched the scarlet-clad figure gracefully pirouetting and skilfully executing difficult steps.

“Well?” she said, as she returned to him, and again they joined hands and glided along in unison.

“Well, you’re delightful on ice. You’re a will o’ the wisp.”