Patty Blossom

"Fine! And after you get yours all planned will you help me with mine?"

"Will I! I live but for that! You, my Elise, must wear corn colour, or, say, maize colour, and poppies."

"Yes, now that you speak of it, that's just what I want. Shall us ask Philip down, Patty?"

"No; I'd like to have one time of my life without his revered presence."

"Look here, Patty, between you and me and the circus, aren't you expecting to be the eventual Mrs. Philip?"

"Oh, Elise, don't bother me about such far-away eventualities."

"All right, I won't, 'cause I know all about that. You're trying him out, and if he passes his exams, you're going to say yes, pretty soon, now."

"Good gracious! I believe my loving friends know more about my affairs than I do myself!"

"If we didn't we wouldn't know much! You are the most wabbly-hearted person I ever knew! Say, Pats, what did you do to big Bill Farnsworth to send him flying off out West again?"

"I?" and Patty opened her blue eyes wide at Elise.

"Yes, you, you saucer-eyed doll! One day, he was shining brightly all over the place, and the next, he was like a thunder cloud, and departed straightway for the wild and woolly."

"Oh, well, Elise, I can't feel sure that it's precisely your affair; but, as you show a polite interest, I don't mind telling you that we quarrelled."

"About Philip Van Reypen."

"Clairvoyant! Well, if you will have it so,—yes."

"Oh, Patty, then you do like Phil better than Mr. Farnsworth!"

"Do I?"

"You must! or you never would have sent one away because of the other. And, Patty, you did just right. Phil Van Reypen is worth a dozen of that Western giant. He's nice, Mr. Farnsworth is, but Philip is so much more—oh,—aristocratic and—and smart-looking, you know."

"Bill is smart enough," said Patty, thoughtfully.

"I don't mean smart in the sense of clever, but–"

"I know; you mean well-dressed and fashionable."

"Yes, and correct-mannered, and generally all round a gentleman."

"Bill Farnsworth is a gentleman."

"Of course. But not the polished type Philip is. He's an aristocrat."

"Oh, fiddlestrings. I'm sick and tired of hearing that Phil Van Reypen is an aristocrat! If I were an aristocrat, I'd try to hide it! Anyway, I wouldn't advertise it all the time!"

"Patty! you ought to be ashamed of yourself! Phil doesn't advertise it!"

"Well, he doesn't employ you to do it for him, either, so you may as well stop it. I know all about Phil's aristocracy. And it's all right. I never said it wasn't. But a man has got to be something more than an aristocrat before I can fall desperately in love with him. And I must be desperately in love with the man I promise to marry."

Patty spoke seriously, and her blue eyes took on a violet light as she looked out of the window and far away to the sky beyond the pine trees.

"Of course, you must, Patty. Every girl feels that way. But when Phil adores you so, how can you resist him?"

"Now, now, Elise, don't ask leading questions. And, also, let's turn the tables. When a certain nice young man that I wot of, so adores you, how can you resist him?"

"I don't know that I shall," replied Elise, blushing.

"Oho! Bad as that, eh? Now I see why you're so interested in my affairs of the heart. Misery loves company."

"But I'm not miserable."

"No, of course not. Howsumever, if you insist on asking Philip Van down to the circus, I shall advise asking one Mr. Kit Cameron."

"You're a day behind the fair! I've asked him and he can't come."

"Too bad. But, just for that, I won't have Phil, either. Then we can both be heart-whole and fancy free."

"All right. Bob Riggs has taken a large and elegant notion to you, and I am engaged in the pleasant pastime of subjugating Hal Merritt, so we shan't want for rustic swains."

"As if we ever had! But as for me, this circus business seems a piece of work, and I must apply myself to it, or rejoice in a failure at the eventful moment."

"You're right. Let's go over to Mme. Beauvais' and see about her making our costumes."

"Come on, we'll go now."

The next few days the girls devoted all their time to their costumes and to rehearsals for the circus. It was a more elaborate affair than Patty had anticipated, and the men who were to represent animals had marvellous suits of fur that closely imitated the real thing in wild beasts.

A bear, who was ordinarily Jack Fenn, captivated Patty from the first, and when she proposed to dance with him, Bob Riggs caught at the idea.

"Capital!" he cried, "just the thing, Miss Fairfield. Hit of the evening, I assure you. Come, begin your rehearsal at once."

It was not easy, for the bear costume made its wearer clumsy and he awkwardly tripped and nearly upset Patty. But she good-naturedly tried the steps over and over until they began to do better.

"It'll right itself after a few more rehearsals," she said, encouragingly. "Come over to the Farringtons' mornings, and we'll get a little extra practice."

Fenn did so, and, as they perfected the dance, all who saw it prophesied it would be the hit of the whole affair.

And everybody was pleased save and except Ray Rose. She had taken quietly enough the substitution of Patty for herself as première danseuse, and had even said she preferred the part that had been assigned her. But when the Bear dance began to be talked about with such enthusiasm, she commenced to find fault.

"How did you happen to worm yourself into my place, Miss Fairfield?" she said at a rehearsal. "Did you make up this Bear foolery?"

"I'm afraid I did, Miss Rose," returned Patty, smiling. "You've no criticism to make, have you?"

"None, except that I wanted that part that Mr. Riggs saw fit to give you, and I'm madder'n hops 'cause I haven't got it."

"Why, I'll give it to you," and Patty smiled at the pouting girl.