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[Illustration: Patty knew that a momentous decision lay
before her (_Page_ 292)]
PATTY’S FORTUNE
by
CAROLYN WELLS
Author of
The Patty Books, The Marjorie Books,
Two Little Women Series, etc.
Illustrations by E. C. Caswell
[Illustration]
New York
Dodd, Mead and Company
1916
Copyright, 1916
By Dodd, Mead and Company, Inc.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I AN INVITATION 9
II THE HOTEL 23
III A MIDNIGHT MESSAGE 37
IV BLUE ROCK LAKE 52
V M’LLE FARINI! 64
VI MAUDE’S CONFIDENCES 78
VII THE FORTUNE TELLER 93
VIII A RIDE TOGETHER 107
IX THE “SHOWER” 123
X GOOD-BYE, SWEETHEART 136
XI A BUBBLE BURST 150
XII MIDDY 166
XIII CHICK’S PLAN 179
XIV A GREAT SUCCESS 193
XV PATTY’S FUTURE 208
XVI THE PROMISE 224
XVII THE CRISIS 237
XVIII PATTY’S FORTUNE 251
XIX A DISTURBING LETTER 265
XX BETTER THAN ANYBODY ELSE 279
ILLUSTRATIONS
PATTY KNEW THAT A MOMENTOUS _Frontispiece_
DECISION LAY BEFORE HER (Page
292)
A MOMENT PATTY THOUGHT. THEN SHE Facing page 60
SAID, “NO THANK YOU, BILLEE, I
DON’T”
PATTY’S SWEET VOICE CHARMED BY ITS “ “ 86
SYMPATHY
“TELL ME IF YOU TOLD AUNTY VAN THAT “ “ 274
YOU WOULD LEARN TO LOVE ME”
CHAPTER I
AN INVITATION
“I think Labour Day is an awfully funny holiday,” remarked Patty. “It
doesn’t seem to mean anything. It doesn’t commemorate anybody’s birth or
death or heroism.”
“It’s like Bank Holiday in England,” said her father. “Merely to give
the poor, tired business man a rest.”
“Well, you don’t specially need one, Daddy; you’ve recreated a lot this
summer; and it’s done you good,—you’re looking fine.”
“Isn’t he?” said Nan, smiling at the finely tanned face of her husband.
The Fairfields were down at “The Pebbles,” their summer home at the
seashore, and Patty, who had spent much of the season in New England,
had come down for a fortnight with her parents. Labour Day was early
this year and the warm September sun was more like that of midsummer.
The place was looking lovely, and Patty herself made a pretty picture,
as she lounged in a big couch hammock on the wide veranda. She had on a
white summer frock and a silk sweater of an exquisite shade of salmon
pink. Her silk stockings were of the same shade, and her white pumps
were immaculate.
Mr. Fairfield looked at the dainty feet, hanging over the edge of the
hammock, and said, teasingly, “I’ve heard, Patty, that there are only
two kinds of women: those who have small feet, and those who wear white
shoes.”
Patty surveyed the feet in question. “You can’t start anything, Dad,”
she said; “as a matter of fact, there’s only one kind of women today for
they all wear white shoes. And my feets are small for my age. I wear
fours and that’s not much for a great, big girl like me.”
“’Deed it isn’t, Patty,” said Nan; “your feet are very slender and
pretty; and your white shoes are always white, which is not a universal
condition, by any means.”
“You’re a great comfort, Nan,” and Patty smiled at her stepmother.
“Dunno what I’d do without you, when the Governor tries to take a rise
out of me.”
“Oh, I’ll buy your flowers, little girl,” and Nan smiled back, for there
was great friendship and chumminess between these two. “Are you tired,
Pats? You look—well,—interestingly pale.”
“Washed out, you mean,” and Patty grinned. “No, I’m not exactly tired,
but I’ve been thinking——”
“Oh, then of course you’re exhausted! You oughtn’t to think, Patty!”
“Huh! But listen here. This is Monday, and between now and Saturday
night I’ve got to go to fourteen different functions, of more or less
grandeur and gaiety. Fourteen! And not one can I escape without making
the other thirteen mad at me!”
“But, Patty,” said Mr. Fairfield, “that’s ridiculous. Of course, you can
refuse such invitations as you choose.”
“Of course I can’t, Lord Chesterfield. I’ve got to show up at every
blessed one,—or not at any. I’d like to cut the whole caboodle!”
“Why don’t you?” asked Nan. “Just retire into solitude, and I’ll say
you’re suffering from—from——”
“Temporary mental aberration!” laughed Patty. “No, that wouldn’t suit me
at all. Why, this afternoon, I’m going to a Garden Tea that I wouldn’t
miss for a farm. There’s to be a new man there!”
“Well, just about the last thing you need on this earth is a new man!”
declared her father. “You’ve a man for every day in the week now, with
two thrown in for Sunday.”
Patty looked demure. “I can’t help it,” she said. “I’m that
entertaining, you know. But this new man is a corker!”
“My child, what langwich, what langwich!”
“’Tisn’t mine. That the way he was described to me. So, of course, I
want to see if he _is_ any good. And, you won’t believe it, but his name
is Chick Channing!”
“What!”
“Yes, it is. Chickering Channing, for long, Chick for short.”
“What _was_ his mother thinking of?”
“Dunno. Prob’ly he was named for a rich uncle, and she couldn’t help the
combination.”
“Who is he?”
“One of Mona’s Western friends. Arrives today for a week or so. Mona’s
Tea is in his honour, though she was going to have it anyway.”
“Well,” said Mr. Fairfield, judicially, “of course you must go to that
Tea, and subjugate that young man. Then have him over here and I’ll size
him up. If you want him, I’ll buy him for you.”
“Thank you, dear Father, but I have toys enough. Well, then, tonight is
the Country Club Ball. And I do hate that, for there are so many
uninteresting people at it, and you have to dance with most of them. And
tomorrow there’s a poky old luncheon at Miss Gardiner’s. I _don’t_ want
to go to that. I wish I could elope!”
“Why don’t you, Patty?” said Nan, sympathetically; “cut it all, and run
up to Adele’s, or some nice, quiet place.”
“Adele’s a quiet place! Not much! Even gayer than Spring Beach. And,
anyway, it isn’t eloping if you go alone. I want to elope with a Romeo,
or something exciting like that. Well! for goodness gracious sakes’
alive! Will you _kindly_ look who’s coming up the walk!”
They followed the direction of Patty’s dancing blue eyes and saw a big
man, very big and very smiling, walking up the gravel path, with a long,
swinging stride.
“Little Billee!” Patty cried, jumping up and holding out both hands.
“Wherever did you descend from?”
“Didn’t descend; came up. Up from the South, at break of day,—Barnegat,
to be exact. How do you do, Mrs. Fairfield? How are you, sir?”
Farnsworth’s kindly, breezy manner, condoned his lack of conventional
formality, and with an easy grace, he disposed his big bulk in a deep
and roomy wicker porch chair.
“And how’s the Giddy Butterfly?” he said, turning to Patty. “Still
making two smiles grow where one was before? Still breaking hearts and
binding them up again?”
“Yes,” and she dimpled at him. “And I have a brand-new one to break this
afternoon. Isn’t that fine?”
“Fine for the fortunate owner of the heart, yes. Any man worthy of the
name would rather have his heart broken by Patty Fairfield
than—than—to die in a better land!”
“Hobson’s choice,” said Mr. Fairfield, drily. “Are you here for a time,
Farnsworth? Glad to have you stay with us.”
“Thank you, sir, but I’m on the wing. I expected to spend the holiday
properly, fishing at Barnegat. But a hurry-up telegram calls me up to
Maine, instanter. I just dropped off here over one train, to catch a
glimpse of Little Sunshine, and make sure she’s behaving herself.”
“I’m a Angel,” declared Patty, with a heavenward gaze. “And, Bill, what
do you think! I was just saying I wanted to elope. Now, here you are!
Why don’t I elope with you?”
“If it must be some one, it might as well be me,” returned Farnsworth,
gravely; “have you a rope ladder handy?”
“Always keep one on hand,” returned Patty, gaily. “When do we start?”
“Right away, now, if you’re going with me,” and Bill laughed as Patty
sat up straight and tied her sweater sash and pretended to get ready to
go.
“But this is the strange part,” he went on; “you all think I’m fooling,
but I’m not! I do want to carry Patty off with me, on this very next
train.”
“This is so sudden!” said Patty, still taking it as a joke.
“You keep still a minute, Milady, and let me explain to your elders and
betters.” Patty pouted at this, but Bill went on. “You see, Mr.
Fairfield, I’m involved in some big business transactions, which, not to
go into details, have made it necessary for me to become the owner of a
large hotel up in Maine,—in the lake region.”
“I thought all Maine was lakey,” put in Patty.
“Well, this is a smallish lake, not far from Poland Spring. And it’s a
big hotel, and it’s to close tomorrow, and all the guests will leave
then. And I’ve got to go up there and look after it.”
“How did you happen to acquire this white elephant?” asked Fred
Fairfield, greatly interested.
“Had to take it for a debt. Man couldn’t pay,—lost his money in war
stocks.—I’ll tell you all about it while Patty’s getting her bag
packed.”
“What do you mean?” cried Nan, seeing Farnsworth’s apparent sincerity.
“Oh, Lord, I forgot I haven’t told you yet! Well, as I have to go up
there for a week or two, and as the hotel is all in running order, and
as all the guests are going off in a hurry, and the servants are still
there, I thought it would be fun to have a sort of a house party up
there—”
“Gorgeous!” cried Patty, clapping her hands, “Who’s going, Bill?”
“That’s the rub! I haven’t asked anybody yet, and I doubt if I can get
many at this time of year.”
“Haven’t asked anybody! I thought you had planned this house party!”
“Well, you see, I just got the telegram last night, and it was on the
train coming up here this morning that I planned it—so the plans
aren’t—aren’t entirely completed as yet.”
“Oh, you fraud! You made it all up on the spur of the moment——”
“Yes’m, I did. But what a spur the moment is! Now, see here, it’s clear
sailing. We can get the Kenerleys and they’ll be the chaperons. Now, all
we have to do, is to corral a few guests. You and I are two. How about
Mona Galbraith?”
“She’d go if she could,” said Patty, “but she’s having a party this
afternoon. Chick Channing is over there.”
“Chick Channing! Is he really? Well! Well! I haven’t seen that boy for
years. We must make them come. And Daisy? Is she there?”
“Yet, but don’t get too many girls——”
“Don’t be alarmed, you little man-eater, you! The Farringtons will go,
maybe; and Kit Cameron and his pretty cousin. Oh, I’ve a list of
possibles, and we’ll get enough for a jolly little crowd. You’ve no
objections, have you?” and Farnsworth looked anxiously at the elder
Fairfields.
“N-no,” began Nan, “but it isn’t all clear to me yet. Suppose the
Kenerleys can’t go?”
“That puts the whole plant out of commission. Unless,—oh, by Jove!
wouldn’t you two go? That would be fine!”
But Mr. Fairfield and Nan refused to be drawn into any such crazy
scheme. It was all right for young people, they said, but not for a
comfort-loving, middle-aged pair.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Farnsworth, after a moment’s thought. “I’ll
get the Kens on the long distance, and find out for sure. Meantime,
Butterfly, you be packing a few feathers, for sumpum tells me Adele will
go, anyway, whether old Jim does or not.”
“Might as well throw some things in a suitcase I s’pose,” said Patty;
“it’s better to be ready and not go than to go and not be ready.”
After a long session at the telephone, Bill announced a triumphant
success. The Kenerleys would be glad to go. Moreover, Adele would meet
Patty and Bill in New York that very day in time for a late luncheon.
Then they would get the Farringtons and the others by telephone. Then
Patty would go home with Adele for the night, and they would all go to
Maine the next day.
“You see it’s very simple,” said Bill, with such an ingenuous smile that
Nan went over to his side at once.
“Of course it is,” she agreed. “It’s simply lovely! And Patty wanted to
get away from the giddy whirl down here. She’ll have the time of her
life!”
But Mr. Fairfield was not so sure. “I think it’s a wild goose chase,” he
said. “What sort of a place are you going to? You don’t know! What sort
of service and creature comforts? You don’t know! What will you get to
eat? You don’t know! That’s a nice sort of outlook, I must say!”
“Oh, easy now, sir. It isn’t as bad as all that. I’ve had rather
definite and detailed reports, and if it weren’t all comfy and certain,
I wouldn’t take Patty up there. It’s a Lark, you see, a Lark,—and I’m
sure we’ll get a lot of fun out of it. And, incidentally, I know it’s a
fine section of country,—healthful, invigourating, and all that. And
the house is a modern up-to-date hotel. They always close soon after
Labour Day, but this year, owing to circumstances, it’s the very day
after. That’s where the fun comes in, having a whole hotel all to
ourselves. But we must be getting on. The train leaves in twenty
minutes.”
“I’m all ready,” said Patty, as she re-appeared, miraculously
transformed into a lady garbed for travelling. A silk pongee coat
protected her gown and a small hat and veil completed a smart costume.
“I don’t altogether like it——” began Mr. Fairfield, as they got into
the motor to go to the train.
“Run along, Patty,” said Nan. “I’ll see to it that he does like it,
before you leave the station. Going to Mona’s?”
“Yes, just for a minute. You see her as soon as we’re gone, and tell her
all about it. We can only say the barest facts.”
They flew off, Patty’s veil streaming behind, until she drew it in and
tied it round her neck.
At Red Chimneys, several young people were playing tennis, but Patty
called Mona to her and told her briefly of the plan.
“Glorious!” cried Mona. “If it were not for that old Tea, we could go
right along now. But we’ll come tomorrow. Where shall we meet you?”
Quickly Farnsworth told her, and then turned to see his old friend,
Channing.
“Chick, old boy!” he cried. “My, but it’s good to see you again!”
Channing was presented to Patty, who looked at him in amazement. He was
the biggest man she had ever seen, even taller than Bill Farnsworth. He
looked enormously strong, and when he smiled, his large mouth parted to
show two rows of big, white, even teeth, that somehow made Patty feel
like Red Ridinghood before the wolf. But there was little time for
getting acquainted, for it was almost train time.
A few words between the two men as to meeting next day, and then the
motor flew to the station.
And only just in time, for though Bill handed Patty on to the steps with
care, he had to scramble up himself as the train was about to start.
“How do you like eloping?” he said, smilingly, as they rolled away.
“Fine,” said Patty, dimpling, “but must it always be done in quite such
a hurry?”
“Not always; next time we’ll take it easier. Now, let’s make a list of
our house guests.”
Farnsworth took out a notebook and pencil, and they suggested various
names, some of which they decided for and some against.
At last Patty said, in an assured tone, “And Phil Van Reypen.”
“Not on your life!” exclaimed Bill. “If he goes _I_ don’t!”
“Why, Little Billee, we couldn’t have the party at all without _you_!”
“Then you’ll have it without _him_! See?”
Patty pouted. “I don’t see why. He’s an awfully nice man, I think.”
“Oh, you do, do you? Why don’t you stay home, then, and have him down at
the seashore to visit you?”
“Oh, that wouldn’t be half as much fun. But up there is that lovely
place, all woodsy and lakey and sunsetty, I could have a splendid time,
if I had all my friends around me.” Patty’s sweet face looked very
wistful, and Farnsworth scanned it closely.
“Does it mean so much as that to you, Patty? If it does, you shall have
him invited.”
“Oh, I don’t care. It’s your party, do just as you like.”
“Because it’s my party, I want to do just as _you_ like.” Bill spoke
very kindly, and Patty rewarded him with a flash of her blue eyes, and
the subject was dropped.