Patty Blossom

"Somehow, I don't. I like it here."

"Why?"

"Because I like to look at you. You're looking uncommonly well today. If I were to guess, I should say you have been having a rumpus with somebody."

"What is a rumpus?" inquired Patty, looking innocent.

"A rumpus, my child, is a tiff, a squabble, a set-to, a racket, a general scrimmage."

"I haven't exactly had those things, but, well, I may say I have been drawn into a somewhat spirited discussion."

"Ah, I thought so."

"How did you know? I mean, why did you think so?"

"By your heightened colour and your generally wrought-up condition.

Why, your heart isn't beating normally yet."

Patty looked up at him, indignantly, but his blue eyes were very kind and his smile gentle and even concerned.

"What was it about, Patty? Who has been tormenting you?"

"Nobody tormented me, exactly, but they criticise me and they say mean things about my friends–"

"Never let them do that! Your friends must be sacred to you,—I mean from adverse criticism of others."

"That's what I think, Little Billee. What shall I do, when everybody ridicules them and calls them names?"

"Just what I am sure you did do. Flare up like a wrathy kitten and helplessly paw the air."

"Of course that's what I did," and Patty laughed at the graphic description, "but it didn't seem to do much good."

"Of course it didn't. Standing up for one's friends rarely does much good, except to satisfy one's own sense of loyalty."

"Why, what do you mean? Why doesn't it do any good to defend our friends?"

"Because if they need our defence, they're probably at fault."

"But they weren't in this case. It was the Blaneys,—do you know them?"

"Those mercerised personages I met at Mona's wedding? I haven't the pleasure of their intimate acquaintance, and something tells me I never shall have."

"You mean you don't want it!"

"Mind reader! Patty, you're positively clairvoyant!"

"Now, Little Billee, don't you go back on me, too."

"Go back on you? Never! While this machine is to me! Why, Patty, I'd defend you to the last ditch, and then fill in the ditch!"

"Be serious, Billee. You don't know those people, but can't you take my word for it that they're splendidly worth while? They're geniuses, and artists."

"Patty, I'd take your word for anything you know about. But, for instance, I couldn't take your word that there are blue roses."

"But there are! That's just what the Cosmic Centre people are,—they're blue roses! I never thought of it before, but they are."

"Then beware of them. Blue roses are freaks–"

"Yes, I know it. But there are worse things in this world than freaks.

I'd rather a man would be a freak than a—a mud turtle!"

"Are many of your friends mud turtles?"

"Yes, they are. They stick their heads in the sand–"

"Look out for your Natural History! You're thinking of ostriches."

"All the same. Now, Sam Blaney–"

"Patty! You don't mean to say that chap is Sam Blaney! I thought he looked a bit familiar! Sam! old Sam Blaney! Well!"

"What's the matter, Billee? Do you know him?"

"I used to, when we were boys. Fifteen or more years ago. I doubt if he'd even remember my name. We went to a public school together. Sam Blaney! Well!"

"You exasperating thing! Don't sit there saying 'Well!' and 'Sam Blaney!' but tell me what you know of him."

"Nothing, child, nothing. I haven't seen or heard of him for—since we were fourteen years old or so. Where did you pick him up?"

Patty told of her meeting the Blaneys at Lakewood, and of her continuing their acquaintance in New York. But suddenly Farnsworth seemed to lose interest in her story.

"Never mind the Blaneys," he said. "I want to talk to you. What do you think, my girl? I've won out in that matter of business I've been at so long."

"Have you? I'm very glad. I don't know what it was all about, Little Billee, but if you've succeeded in what you wanted to do, I'm very glad."

"Yes, I have. And it means,—it means, Patty, that I shall live in New York now, all the time."

"Yes?"

"Yes. And it means, too, if this interests you, that I'm a rich man,—a very rich man."

"That's nice, Bill; I congratulate you."

"Oh, thank you." Farnsworth's voice had grown suddenly cold, and the eager light had faded from his blue eyes. He looked at Patty, and quickly looked away.

"I thought you might care," he said.