Patty's Summer Days

“I consider that a promise,” said Mr. Roland, as he moved away to make place for the next seeker after knowledge.

Patty turned to her work, and thought no more of Charlie Roland and his undesirable invitation.

Soon Kenneth came to have his fortune told, for it had been arranged that each booth should have plenty of attendants, in order that they might take turns in leaving their posts and promenading about the grounds. This was supposed to advertise their own particular nation, besides giving all a chance to see the sights.

Kenneth’s fortune proved to be a bright and happy one, but he was not unduly elated over it, for his faith in such things was not implicit.

“Thank you,” he said gravely, as Patty finished telling of the glories which would attend his future career. “I don’t think there’s anything omitted from that string of good luck, unless it’s being President, and I’m not quite sure I want to be that.”

“Yes, you do,” said Patty, “every good American ought to want that, if only as a matter of patriotism.”

“Well, I’m patriotic enough,” said Kenneth, “and I’ll want it if you want me to want it. And now, Patty, you’ve worked here long enough for the present. Let somebody else take your place, and you come with me for a walk about the grounds. I’ll take you to the pergola, and we’ll buy some flowers from Elise.”

“I’d love to go, Ken, but truly I ought to stay here a while longer. Lots of people want their fortune told, and nobody can do it but me, because I learnt all that lingo out of a book. No, I can’t go now. Run along,—I’m busy.”

Patty spoke more shortly than she meant to, for the very reason that she wanted to go with Kenneth, but she felt it her duty to remain at her post.

Kenneth appreciated the principle of the thing, but he thought that Patty might have been a little kinder about it. His own temper was a little stirred by the incident, and rising quickly, he said, “All right, stay here, then!” And turning on his heel, he sauntered carelessly away.

Patty looked after him, thinking what a handsome boy he was, and how well his Italian suit became him. Kenneth’s skin was naturally rather dark, and his black eyes and hair and heavy eyebrows were somewhat of the Italian type. His white linen blouse was slightly turned in at the throat and he wore a crimson silk tie, and sash to match, knotted at one side. A broad-brimmed hat of soft grey felt sat jauntily on his head, and as he swung himself down the path, Patty thought she had never seen him look so well.

Soon after this, Charlie Roland came back again.

“I’ve brought someone to help you out,” he said, as he introduced a young girl who accompanied him. “This is Miss Leslie and she knows fortune telling from the ground up. Give her a red sash, and a bandana handkerchief to tie around her head, and let her take your place, if only for a short time; and you come with me to buy some flowers. Do you know, your costume really calls for some scarlet blossoms in your hair, and over in the pergola they have some red geraniums that are simply great. Come on, let’s get some.”

Patty did want some red flowers, and had meant to have some, but she dressed in such a hurry that there was no time to find any. Moreover, she had never known Charlie Roland to appear to such good advantage. He seemed to have dropped his pompous manner with his civilised dress, and in his comical Chinaman’s costume, he seemed far more attractive than in his own everyday dress. And since he had provided her with a substitute, Patty saw no reason for refusing his invitation.

So together they left the Romany Rest, and walked about the Fair, chatting with people here and there, until they reached the pergola.

Elise was delighted to see them, and while the Italian girls besought Mr. Roland to buy their flowers, the Italian young men clustered around Patty, and with merry laugh and jest, presented her with sundry floral offerings.

There was one exception, however; Kenneth stood aloof. For the first time in his life, he felt that Patty had intentionally slighted him. He had asked her to come to the pergola for flowers, and she had refused. Then a few minutes later she had accepted a similar invitation from that stupid young Roland. Kenneth was obliged to admit to himself that young Roland did not look stupid just at present, for he had some talent as a comedian, and was acting the part of a funny Chinaman with success. But that didn’t make any difference to Kenneth, and he looked reproachfully at Patty, as she accepted the flowers and gay compliments from her attendant cavalier.

Patty had intended to explain to Kenneth why it had been possible for her to leave the gypsy camp in charge of another fortune teller, but when she saw the boy’s moody expression and sulky attitude her sense of humour was touched, and she giggled to herself at the idea of Kenneth being angry at such a trifle.

She thought it distinctly silly of him, and being in a mischievous mood, she concluded he ought to be punished for such foolishness. So instead of smiling at him, she gave him only a careless glance, and then devoted her attention to the others.

Patty was a general favourite, and her happy, sunny ways made friends for her wherever she went. She was therefore surrounded by a crowd of merry young people, some of whom had just been introduced to her, and others whom she had known longer; and as she laughed and chatted with them, Kenneth began to think that he was acting rather foolishly, and longed to join the group around the gypsy queen.

But the boy was both sensitive and proud, and he could not quite bring himself to overlook what he considered an intentional unkindness on the part of Patty.

So, wandering away from the pergola, he visited other booths, and chatted with other groups, determined to ignore Patty and her perversities.

Patty, not being an obtuse young person, saw through all this, and chose to be amused by it.

“Dear old Ken,” she thought to herself, “what a goose he is! I’ll get Nan to ask him to have supper with us all in the English Dairy, and then I expect he’ll thaw out that frozen manner of his.”

Feeling that she ought to return to her own post, Patty told her Chinaman so, and together they went back to the Romany Rest; but as Patty was about to take her place again at the fortune teller’s table, Mr. Phelps came along and desired her to go with him, and have her photograph taken. At first Patty demurred, though she greatly wanted to go, but Miss Leslie said she was not at all tired of fortune telling, and would gladly continue to substitute for Patty a while longer.

“Come on, then,” said Dick Phelps, “there’s no reason why you shouldn’t, since Miss Leslie is kind enough to fill your place.”

Patty still hesitated, for she thought that Kenneth would be still more offended if he saw her walking around with Mr. Phelps, after having told him that she could not leave the gypsy camp.

But Dick Phelps was of an imperious nature. He was accustomed to having his own way, and was impatient at Patty’s hesitation.

“Come on,” he said. “March!” And taking her by the arm, he led her swiftly down the path toward the photograph booth.

As he strode along, cowboy fashion, Patty said, meekly, “Let go of my arm, please, Mr. Phelps. I think you’ve broken two bones already! And don’t walk so fast. I’m all out of breath!”

“Forgive me,” said Dick Phelps, suddenly checking his speed, and smiling down at the girl beside him, “you see this cowboy rig makes me feel as if I were back on the plains again, and I can’t seem to adjust myself to civilised conditions.”

Mr. Phelps looked very splendid as a cowboy, and Patty listened with interest, as he told her of an exciting episode which had occurred during his ranch life, in a distant western territory.

So engrossed did they become in this conversation that the photographs were forgotten for the moment, and they strolled along past the various booths, unheeding the numerous invitations to enter.

Of course Kenneth saw them, and from a trifling offence, Patty’s conduct seemed to him to have grown into a purposed rudeness.

As they passed him, Patty smiled pleasantly, and paused, saying, “We’re all going to have supper in the Dairy, and of course you’ll be with us, Ken?”

“Of course I won’t!” said Kenneth, and deliberately turning on his heel, he walked the other way.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE END OF THE SUMMER

“Whew!” said Dick Phelps, in his straightforward way, “he’s mad at you, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” said Patty, “and it’s so silly! All about nothing at all. I wish you’d take me back to him, Mr. Phelps, and leave us alone, and I think I can straighten matters out in two minutes.”

“Indeed, I’ll do nothing of the sort,” returned Mr. Phelps, in his masterful way; “you promised to go to the photograph place, and that’s where we’re going. I don’t propose to give you up to any young man we chance to meet!”

Patty laughed, and they went on. At the photograph booth they found many of the gaily dressed young people, anxious to have pictures of themselves in their pretty costumes. Patty and Mr. Phelps had to wait their turn, but finally succeeded in getting a number of pictures. Patty had some taken alone, and some in which she was one of a gay group. Some were successful portraits, and others were not, but all were provocative of much laughter and fun. By a rapid process of development, the photographers were enabled to furnish the completed pictures in less than a half hour after the cameras did their work, and as a consequence, this booth was exceedingly popular and promised handsome returns for the benefit of charity.

Mr. Phelps and Patty loitered about, waiting for their pictures, when Patty caught sight of Nan, and running to her she said, “For goodness’ sake, Nan, do help me out! Kenneth’s as mad as hops, and all about nothing! Now I want you to ask him to come to supper with our crowd, and you must make him come!”

“I can’t make him come, if he doesn’t want to. You’ve been teasing him, Patty, and you must get out of your own scrapes.”

“Ah, Nan, dear,” coaxed Patty, “do be good, and truly, if you’ll just persuade him to come to supper with us, I’ll do the rest.”

“I’ll try,” said Nan as she walked away, “but I won’t promise that I’ll succeed.”

She did succeed, however, and some time later Mr. Fairfield gathered the large party whom he had invited to supper, in the English Dairy.

The supper was to be a fine one, far exceeding the bounds of Dairy fare, and Mr. Fairfield had reserved a long table for his guests.

As they trooped in, laughing and talking, and seated themselves for the feast, Patty was relieved to see that Kenneth was among them, after all.

He took a seat between Elise and Helen Barlow, and knowing Bumble’s good nature, Patty went directly to her, and asked her if she wouldn’t move, as she wanted to sit there herself.