Patty's Butterfly Days

"Poor little girlie! I wish I could do something for you. But we have to go a couple of miles further yet. Can you stand it!"

"Yes; but I'd rather SIT it!"

"Do! Come and sit on this throne beside me. There's plenty of room."

"Oh, nonsense, I couldn't. What would the people think?"

"Do you want to KNOW what they'd think?" returned Farnsworth, promptly.

"They'd think that you were old Neptune's Queen, and that you meant to sit beside him all the rest of your life. Let them think that, Patty,—and, let it be true! Will you, my apple blossom girl?"

"No, Bill," said Patty, quietly, and changed her pose so that she did not face him. His words had startled her. Above the rumbling of the float, she had heard him clearly, though, of course, they could not be overheard by the laughing, chattering bystanders.

His earnest tones had left no room for doubt of his meaning, and after Patty's first shock of surprise, she felt a deep regret that he should have spoken thus. But in an instant her quick wit told her that she must not think about it now. She must turn a laughing, careless face to the passing audience.

"Nay, nay, Neptune," she said, facing him again, "I must play my own part. If a life on the ocean wave is not as easy as I had hoped, yet must I brave it out to the end."

Farnsworth took his cue. He knew he ought not to have spoken so seriously at this time, but it was really involuntary. He had fallen deeply in love with the Eastern girl, and his Western whole-heartedness made it difficult for him to conceal his feelings. He flashed a warm, sunny smile at her and said heartily:

"All right, Sea Sprite! I know your pluck and perseverance. You'll get there, with bells on! Take the easiest pose you can, and hang on to that foam-crested wave near you. It sways a bit, but it's firmly anchored. I looked out for that, before I trusted you to this ramshackle old hay wagon!"

Patty smiled back, really helped by his hearty sympathy and strong, ringing voice.

"I HATE to be so,—so unable to stand things!" she exclaimed, pouting a little.

"You're no Sandow girl," he replied; "but—one can't expect an apple blossom to be as strong as a—a cabbage!"

"Nor as strong as a great big Westerner," she returned, looking admiringly at the stalwart Neptune, and thereby pleasing him greatly, for Big Bill was honestly proud of his pounds and inches.

At last they reached the Country Club, which was their destination, and the parade was over; though as the carnival was to conclude with a supper and a dance for the participators, the best part of the fun was yet to come. Aunt Adelaide, who had reached the clubhouse a little earlier, was waiting for her charges, and Bill promptly escorted Patty to her.

"Look after this little girl, won't you, Mrs. Parsons?" he said. "She'll be O. K. after a few moments' rest, but a seafaring life is a hard one, and this little craft is glad to get into port."

Patty gave him a grateful glance, and said:

"Nonsense, Aunt Adelaide, I'm not really tired, but I just want to sit down a while. My feet have a headache!"

"I don't wonder!" declared Mona. "It was awful for you to perch on one toe for a hundred million mile ride! And I reclined at ease on a Roman trident, or whatever you call it!" "Tripod, you mean," said Adele, laughing, "or is it trireme?"

"Dunno," said Mona, who was arranging Patty in a soft easy-chair in the dressing-room of the club. "Now, you sit there, you Sea Witch," she commanded, "and I'll have a maid bring you a hot bouillon or a weak tea, whichever you prefer. You can't have coffee, it might spoil that pinky-winky complexion of yours."

"Nothing can spoil that!" said Daisy, and though the remark sounded complimentary, it was prompted by a spirit of jealousy. Daisy had truly appreciated Patty's generosity in the matter of the note but she couldn't gracefully submit to having her own brunette beauty eclipsed by what she called a doll-face.

Patty's weariness was purely muscular, and so of short duration, and after ten minutes' rest, she was feeling as fresh as ever.

"Now, what do we do?" she asked, shaking her draperies into place and adjusting the new wreath on her hair.

"Now comes the supper," said Mona, "and I'm glad of it. Come on, girls."

The long dining hall at the club was a pretty sight. The guests were all in their Pageant costumes, and as the various float groups mingled, the contrasts were effective. A Venetian gondolier escorted a fisher girl of the Seine, or a bold buccaneer from the Spanish Main clanked his sword in time with the clatter of the wooden sabots of a Holland lass.

Neptune was waiting to escort the Spirit of the Sea to a table, but as Patty came through the dressing-room door, Captain Sayre bowed before her, and asked the honour of taking her to supper. As Farnsworth had made no engagement with Patty, merely taking it for granted that she would go with him, she saw no reason to decline Captain Sayre's invitation, and went gaily away with him.

Farnsworth gazed after her with a look of dazed bewilderment.

"Had you asked her?" said an amused voice, and turning, he saw Mrs. Parsons at his elbow.

"No! I was too stupid to think of it!"

"Patty is so very popular, you know, it's difficult to secure her favours. Have you engaged any dances?"

"No! What an idiot I am! You see, Mrs. Parsons, I'm not really a 'society man,' and in these formal affairs, I'm a bit out of my element. Will you do me the honour to go to supper with me?"

Aunt Adelaide looked at the towering figure in its regal velvet robes.

"I oughtn't to," she said, with a little laugh, "but I can't resist the temptation. So I will! The idea of MY going with the king of the whole show!"

"Excepting Miss Fairfield, there's no one I'd rather have," said Big Bill, honestly, and so Father Neptune strode majestically to his seat at the head of the table, and at his right sat primly, fluttering Aunt Adelaide, instead of the witching sprite he had expected to place there.

Patty was really glad, for she didn't wish to appear too exclusively with Farnsworth, and yet she was a little disappointed, too, for as the Spirit of the Sea, her place was by Father Neptune.

But Captain Sayre made himself very entertaining, and as Jack Pennington was on her other side, she soon forgot all about Little Billee, and gave herself up to the fun of the moment.

"I well remember your beautiful dancing," said the captain. "Will you give me some waltzes?"

"I don't give them plurally," said Patty, smiling at him. "I'll give you one, perhaps; a half one, anyway."

"Not enough!" said Captain Sayre, decidedly. "I must have more than that, by fair means—or otherwise. Where is your card?"

"I haven't any yet; won't it be time enough to get one after supper?"

"Yes, if you let me see it before any one else. I find it's a trick with the young men here to make dance engagements surreptitiously at the supper table."

Patty glanced about, and saw more than one tasselled card appearing and disappearing from hand to hand.

A moment later, she heard a voice behind her chair. "Apple Blossom," it whispered, "I've brought you a dance card. Say 'Thank you, Bill.'"

"Thank you, Father Neptune," said Patty, flashing a smile at him, as she took the card, and turned back to the captain.

CHAPTER XVII

THE APPLE BLOSSOM DANCE

"Now I have a programme, Captain Sayre," Patty said. "If you really want a part of a dance—"

"I don't!" declared the captain, positively. "There are some ladies I'd dance half a dance with, but NOT with you."

"Then I suppose I'll have to give you a whole one," Patty sighed, "and I know I won't have enough to go 'round. You know it's late, and there are only ten dances on the list."