Patty's Summer Days

As Patty did not know these Philadelphia girls very well, many of her verses which foretold their fates were necessarily merely graceful little jingles, without any attempt at special appropriateness.

One which fell to the lot of a dainty little golden-haired girl ran thus:

Your cheeks are red, your eyes are blue;
Your hair is gold, your heart is too.

Another which was applied to a specially good-humoured maiden read thus:

The longer you live the sweeter you’ll grow;
Your fair cup of joy shall have no trace of woe.

But some of the girls had special hopes or interests, and these Patty touched upon. An aspiring music lover was thus warned:

If you would really learn to play,
Pray practice seven hours a day,
And then perhaps at last you may.

And an earnest art student received this somewhat doubtful encouragement:

You’ll try to paint in oil,
And your persistent toil,
Will many a canvas spoil.

Patty’s own verse was a little hit at her dislike for study, and her taste in another direction:

Little you care to read a book,
But, goodness me, how you can cook!

Nan’s came last of all, and she read it aloud amid the gay laughter of the girls:

Ere many days shall pass o’er your fair head,
Your fate is, pretty lady, to be wed;
Yet scarcely can you be a happy wife,
For Patty F. will lead you such a life!

The girls thought these merry little jingles great fun, and each carefully preserved her “fortune” to take home as a souvenir of the occasion.

Bumble Barlow was at this luncheon, for the Barlows were friends and near neighbours of the Allens.

Readers who knew Patty in her earlier years, will remember Bumble as the cousin who lived at the “Hurly-Burly” down on Long Island.

Although Bumble was a little older, and insisted on being called by her real name of Helen, she was the same old mischievous fly-away as ever. She was delighted to see Patty again, and coaxed her to come and stay with them, instead of with the Allens. But Mrs. Allen would not hear of such an arrangement, and could only be induced to give her consent that Patty should spend one day with the Barlows during her visit in Philadelphia.

The short time that was left before the wedding day flew by as if on wings. So much was going on both in the line of gaiety and entertainment, and also by way of preparation for the great event, that Patty began to wonder whether social life was not, after all, as wearing as the more prosaic school work.

But Mrs. Allen said, when this question was referred to her, “Not a bit of it! All this gaiety does you good, Patty. You need recreation from that everlasting grind of school work, and you’ll go back to it next week refreshed, and ready to do better work than ever.”

“I’m sure of it,” said Patty, “and I shall never forget the fun we’re having this week. It’s just like a bit of Fairyland. I’ve never had such an experience before.”

Patty’s life had been one of simple pleasures and duties. She had a great capacity for enjoyment, but heretofore had only known fun and frolic of a more childish nature. This glimpse into what seemed to be really truly grown-up society was bewildering and very enjoyable, and Patty found it quite easy to adapt herself to its requirements.

CHAPTER II

WEDDING BELLS

At last the wedding day arrived, and a brighter or more sunshiny day could not have been asked for by the most exacting of brides.

It was to be an evening wedding, but from early in the morning there was a constant succession of exciting events. The last touches were being put to the decorations, belated presents were coming in, house guests were arriving, messengers coming and going, and through it all Mrs. Allen bustled about, supremely happy in watching the culminating success of her elaborate plans. Patty looked at her with a wondering admiration, for she always admired capability, and Mrs. Allen was exhibiting what might almost be called generalship in her house that day.

Of course, Patty had no care or responsibility, and nothing to do but enjoy herself, so she did this thoroughly.

In the morning Marian and Frank Elliott came. They were staying at the Barlows’, and Mr. Fairfield was staying there too.

It sometimes seemed to Patty that her father ought to have played a more prominent part in all the preliminary festivities, but Mrs. Allen calmly told her, in Mr. Fairfield’s presence, that a bridegroom had no part in wedding affairs until the time of the ceremony itself.

Mr. Fairfield laughed good-humouredly, and replied that he was quite satisfied to be left out of the mad rush, until the real occasion came.

Like Nan, Mr. Fairfield would have preferred a quiet wedding, but Mrs. Allen utterly refused to hear of such a thing. Nan was her only daughter, and this her only chance to arrange an entertainment such as her soul delighted in. Mr. Allen was willing to indulge his wife in her wishes, and was exceedingly hospitable by nature. Moreover, he took great pride in his charming daughter, and wanted everything done that could in any way contribute to the success or add to the beauty of her wedding celebration.

Patty fluttered around the house in a sort of inconsequent delight. Now in the present-room, looking over the beautiful collection, now chatting with her cousins, or other friends, now strolling through the great parlours with their wonderful decorations of banked roses and garland-draped ceilings.

Dinner was early that night, as the ceremony was to be performed at eight o’clock, and after dinner Patty flew to her room to don her own beautiful new gown.

This dress delighted Patty’s beauty-loving heart. It was a white tulle sprinkled with silver, and its soft, dainty glitter seemed to Patty like moonlight on the snow. Her hair was done low on her neck, in a most becoming fashion, and her only ornament was a necklace of pearls which had belonged to her mother, and which her father had given her that very day. The first Mrs. Fairfield had died when Patty was a mere baby, so of course she had no recollection of her, but she had always idealised the personality of her mother, and she took the beautiful pearls from her father with almost a feeling of reverence as she touched them.

“I’m so glad it’s Nan you’re going to marry, Papa,” she said. “I wouldn’t like it as well if it were somebody who would really try to be a stepmother to me, but dear old Nan is more like a sister, and I’m so glad she’s ours.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased, Patty, dear, and I only hope Nan will never regret marrying a man so much older than herself.”

“You’re not old, Papa Fairfield,” cried Patty indignantly; “I won’t have you say such a thing! Why, you’re not forty yet, and Nan is twenty-four. Why, that’s hardly any difference at all.”

“So Nan says,” said Mr. Fairfield, smiling, “so I dare say my arithmetic’s at fault.”

“Of course it is,” said Patty, “and you don’t look a bit old either. Why, you look as young as Mr. Hepworth, and he looks nearly as young as Kenneth, and Kenneth’s only two years older than I am.”

“That sounds a little complicated, Patty, but I’m sure you mean it as a compliment, so I’ll take it as such.”

A little before eight o’clock, Patty, in her shimmering gown, went dancing downstairs.

The rooms were already crowded with guests, and the first familiar face Patty saw was that of Mr. Hepworth, who came toward her with a glad smile of greeting.

“How grown-up we are looking to-night,” he said. “I shall have to paint your portrait all over again, and you must wear that gown, and we will call it, ‘A Moonlight Sonata,’ and send it to the exhibition.”

“That will be lovely!” exclaimed Patty; “but can you paint silver?”

“Well, I could try to get a silvery effect, at least.”

“That wouldn’t do; it must be the real thing. I think you could only get it right by using aluminum paint like they paint the letter-boxes with.”