Patty Blossom

Farnsworth produced another big white linen affair, and unfolding it with a flourish, held it up to Patty's face.

"I never saw anybody have so many clean handkerchiefs! Do you carry a dozen?"

"Always glad to help ladies in distress. Are you often so lachrymose?"

"Oh Little Billee, don't be so everlasting good-natured, when I feel so cross. Why did you bring me away from that place, when I was having such a good time? And the best part was just about to begin!"

"Now, Patty, listen—while the listening's good. Here we are at Elise's; I want you to go in, gay and smiling, and not cause any curious comment. So let the Blaney discussion wait, and I'll tell you all about it, first chance we get. You don't want everybody to know that you left the Cosmic Club a—er,—a bit unintentionally, do you? Then, forget it, for the moment, and put on a Merry Christmas manner. You'll be glad you did, afterward."

Farnsworth's talk was sound sense, and Patty knew it. She already felt a little relieved at getting away from Sam Blaney and back with her own crowd. So she shook off her petulance and her anger, and when she entered the Farringtons' drawing-room, no smile that greeted her was brighter than her own in response.

"Why, Pattibelle," cried Chick Channing, "welcome home! I feared we had lost you to the high-geared Highbrows. Merry Christmas and many of 'em! Come sit by my side, little darling–"

"No, come sit by us," insisted Elise, from the other side of the room.

"You're a dear, to come so early, Patty. How did it happen?"

"Oh, I just couldn't stay there any longer," said Patty, very truthfully. "Am I in time for the Christmas tree?"

"Indeed you are," returned Elise; "also for the feast and the dancing and the Mistletoe Bough."

"Good!" and Patty joined the laughing group, of which she immediately became the centre. Her red velvet gown, though unusual, was not so eccentric as to appear peculiar in this setting, and the girls began to express admiration.

Nor were the men unappreciative.

"A real Yuletide frock, Patty," said Phil Van Reypen, approvingly.

"Didn't know you could wear that colour."

"I couldn't," laughed Patty, "in daylight. But the electrics even things up, somehow, and my complexion takes on a harmonising tint of brick red."

"Because you are a brick," put in Channing. "Did you get many Christmas gifts, Patty? Did you get my small votive offering?"

"Did I get many gifts! My boudoir looks like a World's Fair! Yes, Chick, I got your present. Let me see, it was the padded calf Emerson, wasn't it?"

"It was not! If you got that, it probably came from your Cosmetic friends. I sent you—oh, if you didn't even open it–"

"But I did, Chickadee. It was a heavenly jade hatpin, an exquisite bit of carving. I just adore it, and I shall never wear any other. So cheer up, life is still worth living!"

Patty was in high spirits. It was partly reaction from the artificial atmosphere of the Studio, and partly her real enjoyment of the festive occasion of Elise's Christmas party. The Farrington parties were always on an elaborate scale, and this was no exception.

"I wish Roger and Mona were here," Patty said, "I sort of miss them."

"So do I," chimed in Daisy Dow. "But the honeymoon shining on the sands at Palm Beach still holds them under its influence."

"They must be happy," observed Kit Cameron. "Think of it! Christmas and a bridal trip and the Sunny South,—all at once."

"It is a large order," laughed Patty. "But Mona likes a lot of things at once. That girl has no sense of moderation. When are they coming home, Elise?"

"Don't know. No signs of it yet. Come on, people, now we're going to have the tree!"

The orchestra played a march, and the crowd trooped into the great hall known as the Casino. There awaited them a resplendent Christmas tree, glittering with frosted decorations and glowing with electric lights.

Van Reypen had quietly taken possession of Patty as a partner, and he guided her to a pleasant seat where she could see all the entertainment. For great doings had been arranged to please the guests, and a short program was carried out.

Waits sang old English carols, mummers cut up queer antics, servitors brought in the Boar's Head and Wassail Bowl, and finally it was announced that all present would participate in the old-fashioned dance of Sir Roger de Coverley.

Patty enjoyed it all. She loved to see this sort of thing when it was well done, and in this instance every detail was faultless. Van Reypen quite shared her enthusiasm, and was vigorously clapping his hands over some jest of a mummer, when Big Bill Farnsworth came up to Patty, made a low bow, his hand on his breast, and whisked her off to the dance before she fairly realised what had happened.

"Why—I can't!" she exclaimed, as she found herself standing opposite her smiling partner. "I'm—I'm engaged to Philip!"

"I know you are," returned Farnsworth, gravely, "but you can give me one dance."

Patty blushed, furiously. "Oh, I didn't mean engaged that way," she said, "I meant engaged for this dance."

"No," corrected Farnsworth, still smiling, "you did mean you are engaged to him that way, but not for this dance."

"Well, he hadn't actually asked me," said Patty, doubtfully, "but I know he took it for granted–"

"It isn't wise to take too much for granted—there! see, he has just discovered your absence."

Sure enough, Van Reypen, who had been engrossed with the mummer's chaff, turned back to where Patty had sat, and his look of amazement at her absence was funny to see.

Glancing about, he saw her standing in line, opposite Farnsworth. At first, he looked wrathful, then accepting his position with a good grace, he smiled at them both.

"Little deserter!" he said to her, as he sauntered past her, in search of another partner.

"Deserter, yourself!" she returned. "You completely forgot my existence!"

"I didn't, but I am duly punished for seeming to do so. But I claim you for a supper partner, so make a memorandum of that!"

Patty smiled an assent, and the dance began.

"Don't you like this better than that smoky, incense-smelly atmosphere of the Studio?" Farnsworth said to Patty, as they walked through the stately figures of the dance.

"This is a home of wealth and grandeur," said Patty, "but wealth and grandeur are not the most desirable things in the world."

"What are?"

"Brains and–"

"Yes, brains and breeding. But your high-browed, lowbred–"

"Billee, I've stood a lot from you tonight; now, I refuse to stand any more. You will please stop saying things that you know offend me."

"Forgive me, Patty, I forgot myself."

"Then it's forgive and forget between us. I'll do the forgiving because you did the forgetting. But I've forgiven you all I'm going to. So don't make any more necessary."