AN ABSENT-MINDED COUSIN
"Now, Patty," said Cousin Tom, as they walked along the saloon, "I am going
to hand you over to the stewardess, who will show you your stateroom. Go
with her, and she will look after you. I think you would better leave off
that heavy coat, as it is too chilly outside to permit of going on deck,
and the atmosphere within is quite warm. Ah, here she is. Stewardess, this
is Miss Fairfield and here is her stateroom key. See to it that she is made
comfortable."
As Mr. Fleming supplemented his request with a pecuniary argument, the
stewardess made Patty her especial charge, and assiduously looked after her
comfort.
"And, Patty," said her cousin, as she turned away, "when you are ready,
come back and you will find me right here. See, just by this staircase.
Lock your door and bring the key with you."
Patty felt as if she had suddenly grown several years younger, for Cousin
Tom talked to her as to a little child. "It's more like Wonderland than
ever," she said to herself. "Only instead of growing big or little, I grow
old or young. At Aunt Isabel's I was considered a young lady but Cousin Tom
seems to think I'm a small child."
The stewardess, who was a good-natured old colored woman, took Patty to her
stateroom, and then helped her to unpack her traveling-bag, and arrange her
belongings for the night.
As Aunt Isabel had bought her clothes, of course Patty was absurdly
overdressed.
When she took off her blue velvet coat with its ermine collar, her blue
silk, lace-trimmed dress looked far more suitable for a grand reception
than for traveling.
"Laws, missy," said the voluble stewardess, "how handsome you is!"
Patty thought this a reference to her dress, but the remark was meant for
the child herself, whose flower-like face looked out from a most becoming
big hat of plaited blue velvet, and her golden hair fell in a loosely tied
bunch of long thick curls.
When Patty returned to her Cousin Tom, she found him sitting just where he
said he would be, but so deeply absorbed in a book that he didn't see or
hear her approach.
Not wishing to disturb his reading, she sat down in the large chair next to
him and waited.
She didn't mind this at all, for it was very interesting to watch the
people passing up and down, and the saloon itself was beautiful to look at.
Patty sat for a long while, but Cousin Tom never moved, except to turn the
pages of his book. She did not like to speak to him, as she feared he would
think it necessary to lay aside his book and entertain her; she had no wish
to trouble him, and beside, she was quite capable of entertaining herself.
So after she had sat still for a long while, she decided to walk about the
cabin a bit, always keeping in sight of Cousin Tom, if he should raise his
eyes. But he didn't, and Patty strayed farther and farther away from him,
until she had explored all the available parts of the boat.
She was much interested in all she saw, and many admiring eyes followed the
pretty, graceful child as she walked about.
When she reached the dining-room she looked in, and the sight of the
passengers sitting at well-filled tables made her feel very hungry, and she
wondered if Cousin Tom would finish his book in time to give her any
dinner. Somehow she felt sure he never would look up until he _had_
finished the book.
She went back and sat down again beside him with a little sigh. But he
didn't hear the little sigh, and kept on reading.
Patty looked at him curiously. There was little hope of his finishing the
book, for he was only about half-way through it, and he read very slowly,
turning the pages at long intervals. She could see his eyes move eagerly
along the printed lines, as if delighted with what he found there.
She waited a while longer, and then said to herself, "I don't care, I'm
going to speak to him. I've waited a million hours, and the dinner will be
all eaten up."
She didn't speak, but she rose and stood by his side, and then with a
sudden impulse she laid her hand with outspread fingers upon the page he
was reading.
Cousin Tom jumped as if a firecracker had exploded in his vicinity, and he
looked at Patty with a dazed expression.
"Bless my soul!" he said, "why, little one, I forgot all about you. Will
you forgive me? Have you been here long? I was reading, you see, and I
didn't hear you come."
"I've been here an hour, Cousin Tom," said Patty, demurely.
"An hour? No! Is it possible? You poor child, why didn't you tell me?"
"Oh, I didn't mind," said Patty, "and you seemed to be all wrapped up in
your book."
"Yes, I was,--I was. But I'll try to make amends. Come, let's go and have
some dinner."
Taking Patty's hand, Cousin Tom strode along the saloon, and down the
stairs, and Patty almost had to run to keep up with his long steps.
"Now," said he, as they seated themselves at a table and an obsequious
waiter began to put ice and then water into their glasses. "Now, what would
you like to eat?"
"Oh, anything at all," said Patty, gaily, "I'm hungry enough to eat,--I
don't know what."
"Yes, yes, of course you are,--poor child,--so sorry I forgot you,--quite
inexcusable of me."
Mr. Fleming was looking over the bill of fare as he talked, and then he
looked doubtfully at Patty, as if uncertain what he ought to order for her.
"What would you like for your dinner, child? Now don't say you don't care,
or that you'll leave it to me, for little girls always say that, and I
declare I don't know what you ought to have."
"All right," said Patty, who was quite equal to the occasion. "Let's have
some lobster mayonnaise, and some mushrooms under glass, and little tiny
clams, and tutti-frutti and a Dewey Punch."
Cousin Tom stared at her in amazement.
"What are you talking about?" he exclaimed; "you'd be dead if you ate all
those things. Are they on the bill of fare? What is a 'Dewey Punch'?"
"Oh, I don't die so easily as that. Ethelyn and I used to eat worse mixes
than that, whenever we lunched at the New York restaurants, A Dewey Punch
is a lovely kind of ice cream with strawberry jam or something poured all
over it. I don't see it on the list; perhaps they don't have it. Never
mind, we'll take meringue glace."
"Indeed we won't. I've changed my mind and I'll order this dinner myself.
You shall have some soup, a broiled chicken, some vegetables and a plain
ice cream. There, how do you like that?"
Cousin Tom didn't speak crossly at all, but very decidedly, and there was a
pleasant twinkle in his eye that took away all idea of censure, so Patty
said, amiably:
"I think it will be very nice and I really don't care what we have, only
you told me to suggest something, so I did."
"Certainly, that's all right, but your suggestions were suicidal. Are you
familiar with Bacon?"
Oh, thought Patty, he's going to order the breakfast over night, and I hate
bacon.
"Yes," she said, "but I don't like it at all."
"You don't? What a perverted taste. But Boston will soon change that. We
have a Bacon club, which you shall join. It is a most delightful club, and
you will like it, I'm sure. I fancy that in a few weeks I shall see you
devouring Bacon with intense enjoyment."
Indeed I won't, thought Patty. She was about to say that her Uncle Robert
belonged to a Terrapin Club, but refrained, thinking it might be impolite
to imply disparagement to the more lowly bacon.
So she changed the subject, and said:
"Please, Cousin Tom, tell me something of your family. It's so queer to go
to see people and not know anything about them beforehand. But so far, my
relatives have been very nice."
"Oh, the Flemings are a wonderful family," said Cousin Tom, gaily, "we are
all going to do something great, but somehow we haven't hit it off yet."
"Cousin Elizabeth is an author, isn't she?" inquired Patty, a little
timidly, for she had never seen a real, live author.
"Yes," said Mr. Fleming, "Elizabeth is an author, that is, she writes
novels when she isn't doing anything else; Barbara is a club woman, but she
writes too, more or less."
"And what do you do? Are you literary?"
"Yes, I'm writing a book, myself. It's a treatise on The Will, and I
flatter myself I have some novel theories; and then there's Ruth, you
know."
"Ruth, who is she?"
"Oh, she's our cousin, who lives with us. Not your cousin, you know. She is
father's brother's child, and her people live in the country; so, as she
has a fine mind, she lives with us in order to have the advantage of a
Boston education."
"How old is she?" asked Patty.
"Fourteen or fifteen, I think. She'll be company for you; I think you'll
like her, though she is very different from you."
"What is she like?" asked Patty, much interested in this new and unexpected
comrade.
"Why, she is quiet, and very studious, and--but you'll see her yourself,
to-morrow, so I'll let you form your own opinion."
After dinner they had a short promenade on deck, but the wind was so
strong, that Patty was glad to return to the warm, light saloon, and they
sat down on one of the red velvet sofas. Cousin Tom didn't resume his book,
and Patty felt that he was politely trying to entertain her.
So with a desire to entertain him in return, she asked him to tell her
about the book he was writing.
This seemed to please him immensely, and he eagerly launched into a
description of its scope and plan.
As the subject was far above Patty's comprehension, she listened without
understanding it clearly at all, and after a half hour or so, the
continuous conversation, and the soothing motion of the boat caused the
little girl quite unintentionally to fall sound asleep.
Mr. Fleming kept on talking for some time after this, when suddenly it
occurred to him that his cousin sat very still, and peering round the
corner of the big blue velvet hat, he discovered that his audience was
quite oblivious to his learned discourse.
At first he looked a little annoyed, then he smiled compassionately, for
the tired child seemed to be very peacefully resting, and her pretty head
made a lovely picture against the red velvet sofa.
Mr. Fleming sent for the stewardess, and then awoke the little sleeper.
"Come, Patty," said he, gently tapping her on the shoulder, "it's bedtime,
little girl, and you must run away to your bunk."
Patty opened her eyes and stared about her.
"Oh, Cousin Tom," she said, as she remembered the circumstances under which
she had fallen asleep, "I'm _so_ sorry,--I didn't mean to go to sleep, and
I _was_ interested."
"That's all right, my small cousin," said Mr. Fleming, "and now go along
with the stewardess, and go to sleep and get a good night's rest." Patty
did as Cousin Tom directed, and never wakened until she heard the steamer
scraping against the dock early the next morning.
She rose and dressed quickly, and when the stewardess came for her, she was
quite ready to go to meet Cousin Tom, who awaited her in the cabin.
"I shall give you a roll and a cup of coffee," he said, as if half afraid
that Patty would want to order unheard-of dishes, "for they are expecting
us home to breakfast, and we have only fifteen minutes before our train
starts for Boston."
Patty drank her coffee and ate her roll with a relish, and declared herself
ready to start. A short ride in the cars brought them to Boston. They left
the train and entered the waiting-room, where Cousin Tom placed Patty in a
seat, and told her to stay there and not move while he attended to her
trunks.
Patty obediently sat still, and soon she saw Cousin Tom returning. But just
before he reached her, he met a man whom he evidently knew, and whom he
seemed overjoyed to meet. The two men talked earnestly together, and then
both turned and walked away.
Patty had seen instances of her cousin's absent-mindedness, even since he
had neglected to take her to dinner the night before, and she guessed at
once that he had forgotten her existence, and was going away with his
friend.
She had no intention of being deserted in this way, so she left the bags
and wraps which she was supposed to be guarding, and ran after him.
"Cousin Tom!" she cried as she caught up with him, "where are you going?"
"Bless my soul!" he exclaimed, staring at her, "I forgot you were with me.
What shall I do? Allow me to present Mr. Harding. Ted, this is my cousin,
Miss Patty Fairfield; I am supposed to be escorting her home, but if what
you tell me is so, I must go at once to see Varian. Wait, I have it, Patty;
I'll send you home by a messenger; you don't mind, do you?"
"No, indeed, Cousin Tom," said Patty; "send me any way you like."
So Mr. Fleming called a messenger-boy, and giving Patty, and all the wraps
and bags into his charge, he sent them to his mother's house. "Tell them I
met Harding, and had to go away with him on some very important business,"
he said to Patty. "I'll be home to-night,--good-bye."
And with a hasty hand-shake, he turned again to his friend and they walked
rapidly away.
"Come this way, miss," said the messenger, who was a tall youth, polite and
deferential, and who appeared not at all surprised at the order given him.
"I'll take you along all right."
He piloted Patty with great care and after riding for some distance on the
street cars, they arrived at Mrs. Fleming's house.