Patty's Butterfly Days

"Let me say it for you, little girl. Is it this? Is it that you like me as a friend, and a comrade—chum, but you don't love me as I love you, and you're afraid it will hurt me to know it?"

"Yes, yes, that's it! How did you know?"

"You told me yourself, unconsciously. Now, listen, my girl. I only love you MORE for being brave and honest about it. And I love you more still for your dear, kind heart that can't bear to hurt anybody. And to prove that love, I'm not going to say any more to you on this subject,—at least, not now. Forget what I have said; let us go back to our good comradeship. I startled you; I spoke too soon, I know. So forget it, my apple blossom, and remember only that Little Billee is your friend, who would do anything in the world for you."

"You're an awfully nice man," said Patty, not coyly, but sincerely, as she laid her hand on his arm a moment.

"Now you HAVE told me what you think of me!" cried Farnsworth, gaily, and taking the little hand he held it lightly clasped in his own. "And I thank you, lady, for those kind words! Now, you can look at the moon just a minute longer, and then you must fly, little bird, to your nest in the tree."

"Yes, I must go. Tell me, Little Billee, where did you learn to dance so well?"

"It's mostly my natural grace! I took a few lessons of a wandering minstrel, out home, but I don't know the technique of it, as you and that ornamental captain do."

"But you could learn easily. Shall I teach you?"

"No,—Apple Blossom, I think not."

"Oh, there won't be time. You said you're leaving to-morrow! Must you go?"

"It doesn't matter whether I must or not. If you look at me like that, I WON'T! There, there, Sea Witch, run away, or—or I'll flirt with you!"

"Yes, it's time I went," said Patty, demurely, gathering up her draperies. "But, Billee, how can I thank you for the dear, sweet lovely wreath?"

"Well, there are several ways in which you COULD thank me,—though I'm not sure you WOULD. Suppose we just consider me thanked?"

"That doesn't seem much. Shall I write you a note?"

"That doesn't seem VERY much. Why don't you give me a gift in return?"

"I will! What do you want? A penknife?"

"Mercy, no! I'll have to think it over. Wait! I have it! Have your picture taken—with the wreath on, and give me that."

"All right, I will. Or perhaps Mr. Cromer would sketch me in this whole rig."

"PERHAPS he WOULD!" and Farnsworth caught his breath, as he looked at the vision of loveliness before him. "But we'll see about that later. Skip to bed now, Apple Blossom, and don't appear below decks before noon to-morrow."

"No, I won't. I'm awful tired. Good-night, Little Billee."

"Good-night, Apple Blossom Girl," and Farnsworth held aside the curtain as Patty stepped through the window.

A shower of flowers flew after her, for Bill had picked up his remaining posies, and Patty laughed softly, as the curtain fell and she stood in her room, surrounded by a scattered heap of roses.

"Just like a theatrical lady," she said, smiling and bowing to an imaginary audience, for Patty loved to "make-believe."

And then she took off her silver wreath and put it carefully away.

"Little Billee is SUCH a nice boy," she said, reflectively, as she closed the box.

CHAPTER XVIII

A COQUETTISH COOK

"Hello, Pattypet," said Mona, appearing at Patty's bedside next morning. "How's your chocolate? Does it suit you?"

"Delicious," said Patty, who was luxuriously nestling among her pillows while she ate her breakfast.

"Well, make the most of it, for you'll never get anything more fit to eat or drink in this happy home."

"What DO you mean?"

"Listen to my tale of woe. The chef and his wife have both left."

"Francois? And Marie! Why, whatever for?"

"Your English is a bit damaged, but I'll tell you. You see, Aunt Adelaide flew into one of her biggest tantrums, because her shirred egg was shirred too full, or her waffles didn't waff,—or something,—and she sent for Francois and gave him such a large piece of her mind that he picked up his Marie and walked off."

"Have they really GONE?"

"They really have. I've telephoned to the Intelligence Place, and I can't get a first-class cook down here at all. I shall have to send to the city for one, but, meantime—what to do! What to do!"

"H'm,—and you've guests for luncheon!"

"Yes, the whole Sayre tribe. The captain just CAN'T keep away from YOU! Patty, do you know you're a real belle? Everybody was crazy about you last night."

"Fiddlesticks! Just because I had on a green frock and let my hair hang down."

"Your hair is WONDERFUL. But I didn't come up here to tell you of your own attractions! I want your able advice on how to have a luncheon party without a cook."

"Oh, pooh! that's TOO easy! Give me a helper of some sort, and I'll cook your old luncheon. And I'll promise you it will be just grand!"

"Cook! You? I won't let you. What do you take me for? No, you come with me, and we'll go somewhere where cooks grow and BUY one."

"There won't be time, Mona. What time is luncheon to be?"

"Half-past one; and it's about ten now."

"Oceans of time, then; I tell you, I'll see to the kitchen for luncheon. But of course, you must have a cook, for permanent use."

"Well, rather. But I'll get one from New York by to-morrow morning. And you know Adele Kenerley's friends are coming to dinner to-night. What about that?"

"Leave all to me. I will arrange. But I want somebody to help me. How about Daisy?"

"Daisy's no good at that sort of thing. And I don't like to ask Adele. Say, Patty, let Bill help you; he's a fine cook, I've been on camp picnics with him, and I know. And maybe he wouldn't be GLAD to help you in anything! Ah, there, Patty, you're blushing! I feared as much! Oh, Patty, DO you like him?"

"'Course I like him. He's a jolly chap, and we're good chums."

"But is that all? Patty, tell me; I won't tell."