Patty's Summer Days

“Miss Sinclair, Papa; one of the teachers in our school. I am to meet her at the school at eleven o’clock. We are going to the costume place, and then to the shops to buy a few things for the play. I’ll be home to luncheon, Nan, at one o’clock.”

Patty flew away on her numerous errands, going first to Elise Farrington’s to consult on some important matters. Hilda and Clementine were there, and there was so much to be decided that the time passed by unnoticed, until Patty exclaimed, “Why, girls, it’s half-past eleven now, and I was to meet Miss Sinclair at eleven! Oh, I’m so sorry! I make it a point never to keep anybody waiting. I don’t know when I ever missed an engagement before. Now, you must finish up about the programmes and things, and I’ll scurry right along. She must be there waiting for me.”

The school was only two blocks away, and Patty covered the ground as rapidly as possible. But when she reached there Miss Sinclair had gone. Another teacher who was there told Patty that Miss Sinclair had waited until twenty minutes after eleven, and then she had concluded that she must have mistaken the appointment, and that probably Patty had meant she would meet her at the costumer’s. So she had gone on, leaving word for Patty to follow her there, if by any chance she should come to the school looking for her.

Patty didn’t know what to do. The costumer’s shop was a considerable distance away, and Patty was not in the habit of going around the city alone. But this seemed to her a special occasion, and, too, there was no time to hesitate.

She thought of telephoning to Nan, but of course she had already gone out. She couldn’t call her father up from down town, and it wouldn’t help matters any to ask Elise or any of the other girls to go with her. So, having to make a hasty decision, Patty determined to go alone.

She knew the address, and though she didn’t know exactly how to reach it, she felt sure she could learn by a few enquiries. But, after leaving the Broadway car, she discovered that she had to travel quite a distance east, and there was no cross-town line in that locality. Regretting the necessity of keeping Miss Sinclair waiting, Patty hurried on, and after some difficulty reached the place, only to find that the costumer had recently moved, and that his new address was some distance farther up town.

Patty did not at all like the situation. She was unfamiliar with this part of the town, she felt awkward and embarrassed at being there alone, and she was extremely sorry not to have kept her engagement with Miss Sinclair.

All of this, added to the fact that she was nervous and overwrought, as well as physically tired out, rendered her unable to use her really good judgment and common sense.

She stood on a street corner, uncertain what to do next; and her uncertainty was distinctly manifest on her countenance.

The driver of a passing hansom called out, “Cab, Miss?” And this seemed to Patty a providential solution of her difficulty.

Recklessly unheeding the fact that she had never before been in a public cab alone, she jumped in, after giving the costumer’s number to the driver. As she rode up town she thought it over, and concluded that, after all, she had acted wisely, and that she could explain to her father how the emergency had really necessitated this unusual proceeding.

It was a long ride, and when Patty jumped out of the cab and asked the driver his price, she was a little surprised at the large sum he mentioned.

However, she thought it was wiser to pay it without protest than to make herself further conspicuous by discussing the matter.

She opened the little wrist-bag which she carried, only to make the startling discovery that her purse was missing.

Even as she realised this, there flashed across her memory the fact that her father had often told her that it was a careless way to carry money, and that she would sooner or later be relieved of her purse by some clever pickpocket.

Patty could not be sure whether this was what had happened in the present instance, or whether she had left her purse at home. As she had carried change for carfare in her coat pocket, she had not expected to need a large sum of money, and her confused brain refused to remember whether she had put her purse in her bag or not.

She found herself staring at the cabman, who was looking distrustfully at her.

“I think I have had my pocket picked,” she said slowly, “or else I left my purse at home. I don’t know which.”

“No, no, Miss, that won’t go down,” said the cabman, not rudely, but with an uncomfortable effect of being determined to have his fare. “Pay up, now, pay up,” he went on, “and you’ll save yourself trouble in the end.”

“But I can’t pay you,” said Patty. “I haven’t any money.”

“Then you didn’t ought to ride. It ain’t the first time I’ve knowed a swell young lady to try to beat her way. Come, Miss, if you don’t pay me I’ll have to drive you to the station house.”

“What!” cried Patty, her face turning white with anger and mortification.

“Yes, Miss, that’s the way we do. I s’pose you know you’ve stole a ride.”

“Oh, wait a minute,” said Patty; “let me think.”

“Think away, Miss; perhaps you can remember where you’ve hid your money.”

“But I tell you I haven’t any,” said Patty, her indignation rising above her fear. “Now, look here, I have a friend right in here at this address; let me speak to her, and she’ll come out and pay you.”

“No, no, Miss; you can’t ketch me that way. I’ve heard of them friends before. But I’ll tell you what,” he added, as Patty stood looking at him blankly, “I’ll go in there with you, and if so be’s your friend’s there and pays up the cash, I’ve nothing more to say.”

The hansom-driver climbed down from his seat and went with Patty into the costumer’s shop.

A stolid-looking woman of Italian type met them and enquired what was wanted.

“Is Miss Sinclair here?” asked Patty eagerly.

“No, Miss, there’s nobody here by way of a customer.”

“But hasn’t a lady been here in the last hour, to look at costumes for a play?”

“No, Miss, nobody’s been here this whole morning.”

“You see you can’t work that game,” said the cabman. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I guess you’ll have to come along with me.”

CHAPTER VII

A RESCUE

Perhaps it was partly owing to Patty’s natural sense of humour, or perhaps her overwrought nerves made her feel a little hysterically inclined, but somehow the situation suddenly struck her as being very funny. To think that she, Patty Fairfield, was about to be arrested because she couldn’t pay her cab fare, truly seemed like a joke.

But though it seemed like a joke, it wasn’t one. As Patty hesitated, the cabman grew more impatient and less respectful.

Patty’s feeling of amusement passed as quickly as it came, and she realised that she must do something at once. Nan was not at home, her father was too far away, and, curiously, the next person she thought of as one who could help her in her trouble was Mr. Hepworth.

This thought seemed like an inspiration. Instantly assuming an air of authority and dignity, she turned to the angry cabman and said, “You will be the one to be arrested unless you behave yourself more properly. Come with me to the nearest public telephone station. I have sufficient money with me to pay for a telephone message, and I will then prove to your satisfaction that your fare will be immediately paid.”

Patty afterward wondered how she had the courage to make this speech, but the fear of what might happen had been such a shock to her that it had reacted upon her timidity.

And with good results, for the cabman at once became meek and even cringing.

“There’s a telephone across the street, Miss,” he said.

“Very well,” said Patty; “come with me.”

“There’s a telephone here, Miss,” said the Italian woman, “if you would like to use it.”

“That’s better yet,” said Patty; “where’s the book?”

Taking the telephone book, Patty quickly turned the leaves until she found Mr. Hepworth’s studio number.

She had an aversion to speaking her own name before her present hearers, so when Mr. Hepworth responded she merely said, “Do you know who I am?”

Of course the others listening could not hear when Mr. Hepworth responded that he did know her voice, and then called her by name.

“Very well,” said Patty, still speaking with dignity, “I have had the misfortune to lose my purse, and I am unable to pay my cab fare. Will you be kind enough to answer the cabman over this telephone right now, and inform him that it will be paid if he will drive me to your address, which you will give him?”