Patty—Bride

“Fine! Mother would never dream of looking in your room!”

“I should hope not! And now may I, without undue haste, bid you a very good morning?”

“S’pose I’ve got to go, if you put it like that. I did want to tell you more about Gracie; and there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Not now, not now, my child. I am busy – see? B-U-S-Y! My Flag comes before my friends! Thus, you see my friends follow the Flag!”

“You are so witty! And so kind. Thank you lots, Captain, and when you’re not so busy, may I talk to you again?”

“If that time ever comes! But it never will unless you clear out! Scoot now!” Farnsworth held the door persuadingly open, and Lena didn’t scoot, but she went slowly and reluctantly out.

“The pretty little nuisance!” muttered the Captain, as he closed and locked his door.

Without further interruption, Bill put in the morning on his war work, and at last was free to consider the case against Patty Fairfield.

“She’s true blue,” he thought, “far too true to do anything she deemed wrong or even indiscreet. But I suppose she didn’t realise how definite, – how imperative my instructions were, – maybe I didn’t tell her distinctly enough, – maybe she forgot, – or was really overcome with a desire to know what was in that sealed note. Oh, well, I must warn her further. I hate to hurt her, – I can’t let her think I distrust her, – and Lord knows I don’t! How I wish I had more time! But I’ve that appointment at two – and – whew! I’ll have to scribble to Patty pretty fast, whatever I say!”

The result, after one or two torn-up attempts, was this:

“My Own Patty Blossom, – my Posy Face, – my Best Beloved: I’ve only a minute to write this time, and so I must come to the point at once. Dear Heart, —did you open the sealed note before I told you to? Oh, well, – I know you did so never mind about that, – but, my precious little girl, don’t, please don’t ever do it again. You see, I send you notes thus, so that you can open them in haste when I wire you that you may. Now, if you open them sooner, I never know where we stand. In this matter, darling, please consider my wishes – and, especially because I meant to send a really valuable paper to you, in order that you might hand it to me when I do come to New York, and I won’t have to carry it with me or trust it to the general mail. I can’t explain all these matters, as you know, dear, but I do want to feel that in the government work that is entrusted to me, I can as implicitly trust you to be my aid and helper. Can’t I, Sweetheart? Of course, I know I can, and I know your eager haste to learn my plans led you to open that letter before time. So, don’t do it again, and all will be well. Now, I’ve not another minute, but I must take time to say once again that I love you, and you’re all the world to me, my dear, dear little Posy Patty.

    “And I’m your faithful and devoted
    “Little Billee.”

When Patty received this letter she read it and sat aghast. What could he mean? She had never opened a letter until he told her to! Many times she had received permission by mail or by wire, and then she had opened the sealed notes so frequently enclosed in Bill’s letters to her. But never before she got the word! Never, – never!

Again she read the pages from Washington. Had Farnsworth imagined it or what had made him dream that she had done such a thing?

She? Not to be trusted! When every thought she had, every deed she did was with the one trust and hope that she might help her Captain, – even in the smallest way!

She went to her writing desk and from a locked drawer she took Bill’s sealed note, that had come with a recent letter.

It was still sealed. Why would he think she had opened it? Oh, well, she thought, something has made him think so. I must write him at once that I didn’t. He’ll believe me, of course. I know his faith and trust, and they are not misplaced, that’s certain!

So, a letter was quickly written and despatched telling the Captain that his aid and helper in New York had not been false to her trust in the minutest particular.

But Patty was still puzzled and gave much thought to the matter.

When Van Reypen came to say good-bye on the eve of his departure for camp, he found a quiet and worried little girl, who received him with but a slight smile.

“Well, my Lady Fair, you look as if you’d lost your last friend, – or, perhaps, as if you were about to lose him! May I take this general air of gloom as a tribute to my regrettable absence? Is it just ’cause you’re going to lose your little old friend that you look so disconsolate?”

“No, sir! it isn’t! In the first place, I don’t look sad, and in the second place, if I do, it isn’t because I’m doing any ‘Leah, the forsaken,’ act! I shall miss you, of course, but in these days we must learn to miss people!”

“That’s true, Patty, and have you any idea, – any faint glimmering of a notion, how I shall miss you?”

“Phil, I know all grades of missing! I’m no novice at it. Since this war called them, I’ve missed acquaintances, casual friends, old friends, relatives, and, of course, most of all, my own Little Billee. Now, I shall miss you, – and I know you’ll miss me, – but, you’ll soon get so interested in your work – in the great game, – that you’ll – oh, not forget me, I’m sure, – but my memory will become, let us say, a little blurred.”

“Indeed it won’t! But, hold on here, if it isn’t my departure, what is it that has made your countenance sicklied o’er with a pale cast of – something or other?”

“Rice powder, probably! Does it really make me look sickly? Good gracious!” Patty scrubbed at her cheeks with her handkerchief, until they were rosy indeed.

“Nope; you can’t rub it off! It’s ingrained. Come now, what’s up?”

“Well, I am bothered. Philip, how do war secrets leak out?”

“How do they keep from it, you mean! Why, Patty, the end and aim of a majority of our citizens seems to be to chatter and make trouble thereby. What’s exploded now?”

“Nothing that I can tell you, – only, – well, – never mind.”

“You transparent little goose! Have you been and went and told something Farnsworth told you not to?”

“No, I haven’t! But he thought I did, so it’s just as bad!”

“No; not just as bad, – but, bad. What was it?”

“Never mind, but he thought I opened a sealed envelope and it’s still sealed.”

“Has it been out of your possession?”

“Not for a minute!”

“Good! and locked away when you are asleep?”

“Always; locked in a secret drawer.”

“Good, again. Then, you’re all right. But let me warn you, Patty, to be most exceedingly cautious. Farnsworth’s work is of the highest importance, and his plans must not be known in advance. I know this even better than you do, and I beg of you to be even over-careful of any orders he may give you.”

“Oh, I am! I do! But you see, this matter must have leaked out some other way, and he thought it was because of my knowledge of it.”

“Patty!” Philip spoke suddenly; “did you have that letter with you that day at the Timothy Grass Club?”

“Yes; I had just received it that morning.”

“Where did you carry it?”

“In my fur stole; there’s a buttoned pocket in the end of it, and it’s a safe place.”

“And that Munson, – that masquerader, – wore your stole!”

“So he did!” and Patty looked frightened. “But, no! that’s all right, Phil. The enclosed note was still sealed when I reached home, and it is sealed yet!”

“Very well; but don’t take any chances. Leave your letters at home and carefully locked up, if they contain anything outside your entirely personal affairs. I speak whereof I know, Patty, and you must be careful!”

“I will, Philip, oh, truly I will,” and Patty gave the promise in all sincerity.

CHAPTER X

A VALENTINE