Patty's Motor Car

“Patty, you’re a genius!” he exclaimed; “a perfect genius! How did you ever think of that?”

“Will it do?”

“Do? Of course it will do! It’s just the very thing. I’ll wrap it around that separated battery strap, and we’ll be off in two minutes!”

In really less than two minutes, Van Reypen had wound the strip of tinfoil in its place, had jumped into the car beside Patty, who was already in, and they were flying along at top speed.

“How did you think of it?” he asked again, as they skimmed along. “It was terribly clever of you!”

“Why, I knew you wanted lead, and I knew tinfoil was lead. I was stupid not to think of it sooner.”

“You’re a marvel to think of it at all! It was wonderful!”

“Oh, not at all; that’s nothing to what I can do when I really try! Have some chocolate?”

Patty was in gay spirits now, for they were flying homeward through the moonlight, and she was spared the three-mile walk and her beloved car was safe in her own possession.

“Yes, I will have some chocolate, thank you. We may as well take all the goods the gods provide, while we can. I’m glad to get you home safely, but I can’t honestly say that I haven’t enjoyed this whole escapade. Can you?”

“No,” said Patty, looking at him with a demure smile, “not honestly, I can’t. But, all the same, I’m glad we could manage to ride home instead of walk.”

“Yes, so am I; and it’s astonishing how hungry I am! Can you spare a little more of that chocolate?”

“Yes, indeed;” and Patty broke off a generous bit; “but we’ll give you some supper at ‘The Pebbles.’ I fancy they’ll be rather glad to see us!”

“Yes,” said Philip, grinning; “and I rather fancy we’ll get a warm reception, – and I’m not sure but we deserve it!”

CHAPTER XIV

A BIRTHDAY BREAKFAST

It was not quite twelve o’clock when the Swift Camilla swung through the gateway of “The Pebbles,” and around the long drive to the house. As might have been expected, the waiting group on the veranda greeted the returned runaways with various but vociferous exclamations.

Several of them said, “Why, Patty Fairfield!” Several others said, “Where have you been?”

Roger called out, cheerily: “You must have had a ripping good time! Wish I’d been along!”

Mr. Fairfield said only, “Patty!” and Mr. Hepworth said nothing at all, but looked at Patty with an unmistakable expression of reproof.

Philip Van Reypen took the brunt of the situation upon himself. He jumped out of the car, assisted Patty out, and led her straight to her father.

“Mr. Fairfield,” he said, “here’s your daughter, safe and sound, I’m happy to say. But I want you to decorate her with the Victoria Cross, or something just as good, for to-night she has proved herself a genius, – a wonderful genius! But for her ingenuity we should still be sitting in her little motor car, high and dry on a moonlit beach, listening to the wild waves. To her all the honour and glory, and, if there is any blame attached to our little excursion, it is mine. I kidnapped your daughter, but I fully meant to return her in ten or fifteen minutes, without ransom. I am no villain! But, owing to an accident, we were delayed.”

“I should think you were!” broke in Mr. Fairfield. “It is nearly midnight, and I am – ”

“Papa,” interrupted Patty, “I know exactly what you are! You are surprised, astounded, amazed, astonished, dumfounded, taken aback, struck all of a heap, and completely flabbergasted! If you are anything else, you can let me know to-morrow. Meantime, we are two heroes, who returned with our shield, and on it, both! Incidentally we are starving, and, if we had some supper, we could relate our experiences in fine shape.”

Patty’s arms were round her father’s neck, and, with a wheedlesome expression, her eyes looked up into his, and somehow Mr. Fairfield’s indignation melted away.

“Patty’s quite right,” declared Nan, taking sides with the culprits. “Let’s all go to the dining-room, and then later we’ll hear about Patty’s heroism.”

“Mr. Van Reypen was just as much of a hero as I,” declared Patty, as, with her arm tucked through her father’s, she led the way to the dining-room, where a dainty little supper had been waiting for the return of the missing ones.

“It really wasn’t a matter of heroics,” said Philip Van Reypen; “it was only a simple, plain, everyday breakdown, caused by a separated battery strap. But the glorious part of it all was Miss Fairfield’s cleverness in finding a remedy for the trouble, when it seemed at first there was absolutely none.”

And then, while they ate salad and sandwiches, the interested audience listened to a full description of the breakdown, told in Philip Van Reypen’s most graphic style. In no way did he try to evade the blame for the escapade; he frankly admitted that he ought not to have taken Patty off without permission, but so winning was his frank manner, and so gleeful his enjoyment of the whole recital, that he won the sympathy of all present.

“It’s all right, Philip, my boy,” declared Mr. Fairfield, heartily. “I don’t blame you a bit for yielding to the temptation to slip out of the gate, and of course you could not foresee that peculiar accident. And I am proud of my girl for thinking of a way to fix the thing up! Tinfoil! Well, well! I doubt if I should have thought of that myself!”

Patty smiled and dimpled at the praises showered upon her from all sides, and she caught an approving smile from Mr. Hepworth, which showed his appreciation of what she had done.

“But I’m very sorry to have failed in my duty as hostess,” she said, demurely. “Did you manage to get along without me?”

“Oh, I was here,” said Nan, gaily, “and I kept the young people in order.”

“We did have a lovely time, Patty,” said Elise; “the walk along the beach was delightful; wasn’t it, Christine?”

“Yes,” replied Christine, slowly; “I never saw anything like it. I didn’t know there was so much beauty in the world.”

Mr. Hepworth smiled at the rapturous expression on the face of the Southern girl; and then he declared that it was quite time he and Mr. Van Reypen should depart for their own domicile.

“But you’re to come back here to-morrow morning for breakfast,” said Nan, hospitably. “We’ll breakfast at nine, and inaugurate Patty’s birthday, which I can assure you is going to be a pretty busy day for all concerned.”

“It’s lovely to have a birthday,” sighed Patty as, a few moments later, she went up the broad staircase with her arms around Elise and Christine, who were on either side of her.

“And this is such a lovely continuous performance,” said Elise. “We’ve had a lot of fun already, and the birthday isn’t really begun yet.”

“Well, it has really begun,” said Patty, “because it’s after midnight, and so it’s already to-morrow; but we won’t have any more celebration until breakfast is ready. So good-night, girls, and be sure to be up on time for my birthday breakfast.”

The girls obeyed this parting injunction, but Patty herself overslept, and it was half-past eight in the morning when she opened her eyes to find her two girl friends hovering over her.

“Wake up, sleepy-head!” said Elise, pulling Patty’s curls. “I say, Patty, how jolly it is for you to sleep out here! But don’t you almost freeze?”

“Oh, no, indeed! I have so much bed-covering that I sleep warm as toast; but I love to feel the sea air blow on my face.”

Patty’s sleeping veranda was almost like a room. Partially enclosed on three sides, the front was open to the sea. There were broad wicker blinds to be drawn at will, but, unless in case of a very strong sea breeze, they were seldom drawn.

The girls were in their kimonos, and Patty sent them flying as she sprang up herself.

“Go on, you two, and finish dressing; I’ll be ready before you are, now!”

Elise and Christine scampered away, and Patty began to dress with all speed. And by nine o’clock she went downstairs, fresh and dainty, in a white, embroidered muslin frock, with knots of light-blue ribbon.

Elise and Christine also wore white lingerie dresses; Elise’s being much befrilled and adorned, while Christine’s was far more simple. But each was suited to the type of girl who wore it, and when Nan appeared, also in a white gown, it was a picturesque quartette that stood on the veranda looking at the sunlit sea.

“Here they come!” cried Elise, as Mr. Hepworth and Mr. Van Reypen appeared round the corner. “And, Patty, see! They’re bringing presents to you! Just look at their arms full of tissue paper!”

Sure enough, both the men carried large parcels elaborately done up in tissue paper and bright ribbons. They came up laughing, and with merry birthday greetings to the queen of the occasion.