Patty Blossom

It was Sam Blaney who spoke, and as he had taken her hand and still held it, Patty suddenly recovered her poise and spirits.

"Time's up, Mr. Blaney," she laughed. "You have had my hand fully three minutes, and that's the limit. Somebody else may want it."

"Possession is nine points of the law," said Blaney, still retaining her hand.

"But appropriation isn't possession," and Patty gently withdrew her hand from his detaining fingers.

"No, possession must be granted. Perhaps some time–"

"Some time–" Patty assented, smiling, and dismissing Blaney, as more and more people came along.

But at last the reception was over, and the bridal party went to their especial table in the supper room.

Mona, still resplendent in her heavy court train and bridal laces, cut her wedding cake. She had never looked more beautiful. The long reception had tired her a little, but though the animation in her face was not so vivid, there was a lovely radiant light in her eyes, and her smile was gentle and sweet.

"Roger on this side of me," she said, arranging her table, "Dad on this. The rest of you may sit where you like. I've stopped directing this party,—or any other. I've conducted the little affair of this evening to a successful conclusion, and now I resign all generalship and all planning and arranging to my husband. I'm glad to give up all responsibilities, and I'm going to lead a life of leisure while Roger looks after things for me."

"Good little wife!" said Patty. "I foresee happy days and clear sailing under such regulations."

"If you keep it up," laughed Kit Cameron. "You're pretty well tired out now, Mrs. Farrington, but I'm not sure you're going to stand aside always, when matters of importance arise."

"Yes, she will," declared Roger. "You see, I shall rule her with a rod of iron, and she'll be so terrified of me, that she won't dare cross my lightest whim."

They all laughed at this, for Roger had the most easy-going of natures and had never been known to insist upon his own way.

Patty sat between Van Reypen and Kit Cameron, and opposite her, across the table, was Bill Farnsworth, next to Daisy Dow.

His careless, impersonal greeting still rankled in Patty's mind, but, though it both hurt and angered her, she had no intention of showing her feelings. So, she went to the other extreme and was madly gay and merry, laughing and jesting with everybody and enjoying herself to the utmost.

She looked adorable. The pale pink of her bridesmaid costume was most becoming and her wreath of pink roses, which had slipped a little to one side, gave her the effect of a Queen Titania. Her eyes were like two blue stars, and a pink flush showed on her cheeks, while her scarlet lips smiled or pouted with her changing moods.

"Did you ever see such colouring as that girl has!" murmured Daisy Dow to Farnsworth. "I never saw such truly gold hair, or such blue blue eyes, or such a wonderful complexion."

Daisy spoke whole-heartedly and generously, for she loved Patty, and she thought her the prettiest girl she knew.

"She is pretty," agreed Farnsworth. "Tell me about her,—about all the crowd. I've been away a month and lots can happen in that time. Is Patty engaged to Van Reypen?"

"It isn't announced," said Daisy, "but I think she really is. I shouldn't be surprised if they announce it tonight, after Mona goes away."

"Fine chap, Van Reypen. How about the others? Kit and Elise?"

"Yes, I think so. Though that isn't announced either. Goodness, Bill, suppose they all get engaged and married and leave me to be the only old maid in our set!"

"No fear of that, Daisy. Unless you prefer it so,—and I hope you won't."

"You hope that! Why, Bill, if I thought you hoped it–"

Just then a commotion arose as Mona left the table.

"Ready, girls," she cried out. "I'm going to toss my bouquet. Hold out your hands, all of you."

Obediently, her bridesmaids stood in a row, with their hands held out. There was no question of catching the flowers, for Mona after deliberately looking over the lot, tossed it into Patty's hands. "For you," she said, and, laughing, ran away.

"Greatness thrust upon me!" Patty laughed, looking at the great bunch of white orchids and valley lilies, with its fluttering tendrils and ends of ribbon. "Must I really live up to this favour? Must I really be a bride myself before the year is up? Of course, if it is obligatory–"

She looked up, half shy, and caught Van Reypen's gaze upon her. She turned toward Farnsworth, but he was looking another way. Plucking one stem of lilies of the valley from the bunch she tossed it to Phil, who caught it, kissed it, and put it in his buttonhole. Farnsworth looked round just in time to see the act, and smiled at her.

"Didn't mean anything," said Patty, perversely, and then, pulling out half a dozen more sprays, she threw them indiscriminately around, to Cameron, and several of the other ushers who were grouped about. Farnsworth made a slight effort to catch one, but he didn't really try, and the flower fell to the floor just beyond his reach. He shrugged his shoulders slightly, but made no move to pick it up.

Just then Sam Blaney came along, and Patty offered him a flower, and herself adjusted it in his buttonhole.

"I'm crazy to talk to you," he said, "but I didn't belong at your supper table. Can't we go somewhere and have a bit of a chat?"

"Yes," agreed Patty, "only not too far away from the bride's crowd. Mona will be going away soon, and I must see her go, of course. Didn't she look beautiful?"

"Not in comparison with somebody else I know."

"I'm a mind reader, Mr. Blaney, and I perceive you mean me. But you're mistaken. I'm pretty, in a doll-faced way, but Mona is really beautiful."

"You know where beauty is, Miss Fairfield. In the eye of the beholder."

"Let me see. Yes," after she had looked straight into Blaney's eyes, "yes, you have beauty in your eyes."

"The reflection of your face," he replied, serenely. "You are a flower-face; I never saw any one who so well merited the term. I must write a sonnet to Flower Face."

"It can't be any better poetry than the verses you wrote to me at Lakewood. They are exquisite. Mayn't I show them?"

"Please not. I fancied you would like to keep them just for yourself.

Stay, I have a better name for you. Flower Soul, that's what you are.

That shall be the theme of my sonnet. I think your soul is made of white lilac."

"Why do you people always talk about souls?" asked Patty, gaily. "You don't mean souls really, you know; you mean—well, what do you mean?"

"No, we don't mean souls in the theological sense, we mean the higher understanding and finer sensations."

"Oh," said Patty, not much enlightened.

"And you are coming to see us soon, aren't you? Alla said you promised her you would."

"Yes, I did. And I will come. Do you have regular meetings, like a club,—or what?"

"Yes, like a club, but not on set dates. I'll let you know when the next one—or, stay, I know now. There will be a gathering at our place next Tuesday night. Will you attend? May I come and fetch you?"

"Yes, do, I'd love to be there. Gracious, here comes Mona. I must be with the others."

Patty hurried across the room to stand with the bridal attendants, and, looking very handsome in her travelling costume, Mona bade them good-bye. There was no mad scramble as the bride and groom departed, but flower petals and confetti were showered on them, which they good-naturedly allowed.