Patty's Butterfly Days

Farnsworth found himself in a large, pleasant room, evidently a drawing-room. But without pausing to look around, he made for the hall, and tried to open the great front doors.

"Can't do it," he called to those outside. "I'll open another window."

In a moment, he had thrown up the sash of another long, low window, in a room the other side of the hall, and invited his friends in.

"Couldn't let you girls walk in on that broken glass," he explained.

"Come in this way, and make yourselves at home."

"We're too wet,—we'll spoil things," said Patty, hesitating at the long lace curtains and fine floors and rugs.

"Nonsense! Come on! Where DO you suppose the electric light key is? Whoo! here we have it!"

A flood of light filled the room, and the girls saw they were in a comfortable, pleasant library or sitting-room, evidently the home of cultured, refined people.

CHAPTER XII

A WELCOME SHELTER

A piano stood open, and Daisy sat at it, striking a few chords of "Home, Sweet Home."

This made them all laugh, but Farnsworth said, reprovingly, "Come away from that, Daisy. We have to enter this house to shelter ourselves, but we needn't spoil their belongings unnecessarily."

Daisy pouted, but she came away from the piano, having already left many drops of water on its keys and shining rosewood case.

Patty smiled appreciatively at Bill's thoughtfulness, but said, with growing alarm:

"Where DO you suppose the people are? They MUST have heard us come in, even if they were sound asleep."

"It's pretty queer, I think," said Jack.

"Oh!" cried Daisy, "what do you mean? Do you think there's anything WRONG?" and she began to cry, in sheer, hysterical fright and discomfort.

"It IS queer," agreed Bill, looking out into the hall, and listening.

Then Patty's practical good sense came to her aid.

"Nonsense!" she said. "You're an ungrateful bunch! Here you have shelter from the storm, and you all begin to cry! Well, no," she added, smiling, "you boys are not exactly crying,—but if you were girls, you WOULD be! Now, behave yourselves, and brace up to this occasion! First, there's a fireplace, and here's a full woodbox. Build a roaring fire, and let's dry off a little. Meantime, I wish you two men would go over the house, and find out who's in it. Daisy and I will stay here."

"I won't stay here alone with Patty," sobbed Daisy, who was shaking with nervous fear.

"There, there, Daisy," said Bill, "don't cry. I'll fix it. Miss Fairfield, you're a brick! Your ideas, as I shall amend them, are fine! Pennington, you stay here with the girls, and build the biggest fire you can make. I'll investigate this domicile, and see if the family are really the Seven Sleepers, or if they're surely afraid to come downstairs, for fear we're burglars."

Patty flashed a glance of admiration at the big fellow, but she only said:

"Go along, Little Billee; but hurry back and dry yourself before you catch pneumonia."

Bill went off whistling, and Jack and Patty built a rousing fire. The woodbox was ample and well filled, and the fireplace, a wide one, and the crackling flames felt most grateful to the wet refugees. Jack wanted to go after Farnsworth, but Daisy wouldn't hear of it, so he stayed with the girls. Soon Big Bill returned, smiling all over his good-natured face.

"Not a soul in the whole house!" he reported. "I've been all over it, from attic to cellar. Everything in good order; beds made up, and so forth. But no food in the larder, so I assume the family has gone away for a time."

"Well, of all funny situations!" exclaimed Patty. Cheered by the warmth, her face was smiling and dimpling, and her drying hair was curling in soft tendrils all over her head.

"Come to the fire, Little Billee, and see if you can't begin to commence to dry out a little bit."

"I've just washed my hair, and I can't do a thing with it!" said Big Bill, comically, as he ran his fingers through his thick mane of brown, wavy hair. "But, I say, this fire feels good! Wow! but I'm damp! I say, Pennington, I've been thinking."

"Hard?"

"Yes, hard. Now you must all listen to me. I expect opposition, but it doesn't matter. What I'm going to say now, GOES! See?"

Bill looked almost ferocious in his earnestness, and Patty looked at him with admiration. He was so big and powerful, physically, and now his determined face and strongly set jaw betokened an equal mental power. "I'm at the head of this expedition, and in the present emergency, my word is law!" He banged his clenched fist on the mantel, as he stood before the fire, and seemed fairly to challenge a reply.

"Well, go on," said Patty, laughing. "What's it all about?"

"It's just this. You two girls have got to stay in this house, ALONE, while Pennington and I walk back to Spring Beach, NOW!"

"Good gracious! What for?" exclaimed Patty, while Daisy screamed, "I WON'T do it! I WON'T stay here alone!"

"Be quiet," said Bill, looking at Daisy sternly. "You MUST do as I say."

"You're right, Farnsworth," said Jack Pennington. "It's nearly one o'clock, and we must start right off."

"Yes," agreed Bill. "Now, Miss Fairfield, I assure you, you will be perfectly safe here. It isn't a pleasant prospect, but there's nothing else to be done. The house is securely fastened against intruders. You can lock the drawing-room doors on this side, so the broken window need cause you no uneasiness. We will walk back to 'Red Chimneys,' unless we can get a lift somehow. But, at any rate, we will send a car back here for you at the earliest possible moment."

"It IS the only thing to do," agreed Patty; "but I hate to have you boys start out so wet. Can't you borrow from your host's wardrobe?"

"Good idea!" laughed Bill. "I saw some men's raincoats in the hall. I think we will appropriate them, eh, Pennington?"

With very few further words, the two men took possession of raincoats, rubbers, and umbrellas belonging to their unknown hosts, and went out through the open, broken window into the night. It was still raining, but not so hard, and Bill called back cheerily, "Good-night, ladies," as they tramped away.

"It's awful," Daisy whimpered, "to leave us two girls here alone and unprotected! I know we'll be robbed and murdered by highwaymen!"

"You're talking nonsense, Daisy," said Patty, sternly. "Now, look here, if you'll just be friendly and decent, we needn't have such a bad time, but if you're going to be cross and cry all the time, I shall simply let you alone, and we'll have a horrid, uncomfortable time."

This straightforward, common-sense talk brought Daisy to her senses, and though she still looked petulant, she made no more cross or unkind speeches.

"What are you going to do?" she enquired as Patty took off her chiffon gown, and held it carefully before the fire. "That frock is ruined."

"Yes, I know, but I'm going to pick it out and make it look as decent as I can. I suppose I'll have to wear it home when I go. Take off yours, and I'll dry them both nicely. I'm good at this sort of thing. Here, I'll unhook it."

Daisy dropped her own party frock on the floor and showed little interest as Patty picked it up and daintily fingered its frills into something like shapeliness.

"Hunt around, Daisy," Patty said, knowing it best to keep the girl occupied. "Surely you can find something to put round our shoulders. An afghan or even a table cover would do for a dressing jacket."

Slightly interested, Daisy went into the next room and returned with two lengths of brocaded silk.

"They're bookcase curtains," she explained. "I slipped the rings off the pole. See, we can each have one."