PATTY’S FUTURE
One day Patty was at a matinée with some of the girls, when Mrs. Van
Reypen called at the Fairfield home. It being Saturday afternoon, Mr.
Fairfield was at home, and the visitor asked to see him as well as his
wife.
After greetings were exchanged, the straight-forward old lady went at
once to her subject.
“I’ve come to see you about Patty,” she began, “and if you choose to
tell me I’m a meddlesome old woman and concerning myself with what is
none of my business, you will be quite within your rights.”
“I doubt we shall do that, Mrs. Van Reypen,” said Fred Fairfield,
pleasantly. “What is it about Patty?”
“Only this. To put it in plain words, I want her to marry my nephew
Philip.”
“I should make no objections to that. Indeed, I should be glad and proud
to have my daughter become the wife of your nephew. He is a fine man. I
feel that I know him well and there is no one to whom I would rather
entrust Patty’s happiness.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fairfield. Phil _is_ a good boy, and I have yet to learn
a mean or ignoble thing about him. What is your opinion, Mrs.
Fairfield?”
“I quite agree with my husband,” returned Nan. “Philip has always been
one of my favourites among Patty’s friends, and I, too, should hear of
their engagement with pleasure. But, Mrs. Van Reypen, we cannot answer
for Patty herself. She is, as you perhaps know, a self-willed young
person, and not to be driven or even advised, against her will.”
“But that’s just it. Patty doesn’t know her own will. She takes for
granted all the attentions and favours of the young men, and, goodness
knows she gets enough of them, but it never seems to occur to her that
it’s time she thought about making a choice of one in particular.”
“Oh, come, now, Mrs. Van Reypen, Patty is not yet climbing up on the
traditional shelf.”
“I know that, Mr. Fairfield, but the point is, that she is heart-whole
and fancy-free, and while she is, I desire to influence her mind toward
Philip. Yes, just that. It is not wrong; on the contrary, it is a wise
thing to do. In France the girls’ betrothals are always arranged by
their elders. In England they frequently are. And there is no reason the
plan shouldn’t obtain in our country. We all have Patty’s best interests
at heart, and if we can help this thing along,—without letting the
child know it, of course,—it is our duty as well as our pleasure to do
it.”
“But how, Mrs. Van Reypen?” asked Nan. “Patty would quickly resent any
interference or dictation in her affairs; and, too, any hint that we
were helping Philip’s cause along, would, I assure you, react
disastrously to our effort.”
“Oh, certainly, if she _knew_ it,” and Mrs. Van Reypen spoke
impatiently; “but she needn’t know it.”
“How, then, shall it be done?”
“In lots of ways. Let us throw them together whenever possible. See to
it that she accepts his invitations here and there. Place them next each
other at dinners; in a word, make it clear to the other members of their
circle, that they are definitely _for_ each other, and it will shortly
be recognized and accepted as a fact. I will give opera parties and
dinner parties, and I will see to it, that they are conspicuously paired
as partners.”
“That sounds plausible, Mrs. Van Reypen,” and Nan shook her head; “but
it is not so easy. You, of course, see them together often, but Patty
goes to many parties where Philip is not invited, or if he _is_ there,
where she is escorted by some one else.”
“That’s just it!” and the old lady’s tone was vibrant with enthusiasm;
“we must see to it that she is invited everywhere first by Philip, and
then she can’t accept these other invitations.”
Nan smiled at the thought of thus ordering headstrong Patty’s engagement
calendar, but she only said, “I’m sure if you can accomplish this, I
shall be but too glad. For I, too, want to see Patty happily married. I
am in no haste for the event to occur, but I would like to rest assured
that her choice will be a wise one, and one that will mean her lifelong
happiness.”
“All that would be insured by her betrothal to Philip,” and Philip’s
aunt looked complacent. “And I am sure the dear girl would be willing to
say yes to him, if she were convinced that it was time for her to make a
choice. Will you not, both of you, do all you can to bring this about?”
“With pleasure,” said Mr. Fairfield, “but, as my wife says, it is not
easy to force or coerce my daughter.”
“Oh, not force or coerce! Have you people no idea of diplomacy? Of
strategy, even, if necessary?”
“Just how may diplomacy be directly employed?”
“Principally, perhaps, by inducing propinquity. The more they are
together, the more they will care for one another. Though to be sure,
Philip is deeply in love with Patty, now. He has, I am sure, asked her
to marry him already.”
“Then if he has, and she has refused him,” said Nan, “what more can we
do?”
“Refused him? Nothing of the sort! She hasn’t accepted him, of course,
or we would know of it; but you know how girls, nowadays, play fast and
loose with a man, if they are sure of his devotion. Indeed, if Philip
could be persuaded to slight Patty a little, now and then, it would soon
pique her into an acceptance. But he will never do that,—I know him too
well. Philip is a dear boy, but a straightforward nature, with no
thought of trifling or deception. No, we must devote our efforts toward
Patty’s attitude, not Philip’s. He is all right as he is. If Patty will
consent to marry my nephew, I am considering making her my heiress.”
“Mrs. Van Reypen!” Fred Fairfield exclaimed in indignation, “I beg you
will not use any such argument or bribe in connection with my daughter’s
name!”
“Hoity-toity, now! Don’t get excited. ’Tis no bribe. ’Tis but the fact;
if so be that Patty will become my niece, I shall divide my wealth
equally between her and my nephew. She shall have half in her own right.
If she will not, half is still Philip’s and the other half will go to a
charity. I don’t want to give it all to Philip. He is already a rich
man, and I don’t approve of too big fortunes for young men.”
“Never mind about the money part of it,” said Nan. “I am quite willing
to espouse Mrs. Van Reypen’s cause, irrespective of her will. And, too,
if Patty does marry Philip, it is quite right and proper that she should
inherit this wealth. If not, there is no question of her having it. So
the fortune element settles itself. But what I can’t see is how we’re
going about this thing. I’m somewhat practical, Mrs. Van Reypen, and I
confess I can see no practical way to bring these two hearts to beat as
one. If you can instruct me, I shall be glad to obey orders.”
Nan looked very pretty and sweet as she spoke in earnest on the subject.
She meant just what she said. She would be very glad to have Patty marry
Philip, very glad to do anything she could to help bring it about, but
for the life of her she couldn’t see anything to do.
“Well,” Mrs. Van Reypen defended her stand, “when I took them on that
motor trip together with me, that was a step in the right direction.
They were thrown so much in one another’s company, that it became
inevitable to them to be together. I always thought if that Mr.
Farnsworth hadn’t joined us up at Lake Sunapee, the matter would have
been settled then and there.”
“You think Mr. Farnsworth interfered?” asked Nan.
“I’m not sure. Do you think Patty cares for him?”
“No, I think not,” said Fred Fairfield. “They seem to have little tiffs
when they’re together, and I doubt they are very congenial.”
“I used to like Bill Farnsworth,” said Nan, “but since I learned that he
tried to bring about Patty’s going on the stage, I’ve not cared so much
for him. You see, he’s a Westerner, and he has different ideas from
ours. Imagine Patty on the stage! And it was unpardonable in him to put
the idea in her head.”
“Did he do that?”
“Yes, Philip said he heard that Mr. Farnsworth took Patty over to the
hotel where that actress was staying, to talk the matter over. And he
says that Patty herself said that Bill said she was good-looking enough
to go on the stage! Fancy!”
“It’s an outrage! That whole stage business makes my blood boil!” and
Mrs. Van Reypen’s very bonnet strings shook in righteous indignation.
“That’s what you get for letting her associate with a man like that.”
“Oh, come now,” said Mr. Fairfield, “Farnsworth is a good sort. I think
he’s very much of a man.”
“A fine type of a man to try to get a nice girl like Patty to become a
common actress!” The aristocratic visitor’s face expressed the deepest
scorn of the theatrical profession as a whole. “But she’s all over that,
isn’t she?”
“Yes, thank goodness!” answered Nan. “Well, all I can see to do, is, to
incline Patty toward Philip in any subtle way we can. Praise him to her,
judiciously, not too much. Compare him favourably with other men,
especially Mr. Farnsworth, for I’m not sure that Patty doesn’t like him
quite a little. Then let Philip come here often and we will make him
very welcome, and the rest I think he will have to accomplish himself.”
“You have expressed it very well, Mrs. Fairfield,” and the visitor rose
to go. “And I’m sure other ways and means will suggest themselves to you
as time goes on. If you would sometimes ask him to dinner quite _en
famille_, I will do the same by Patty. Such things,—letting them be
alone together of an evening now and then,—will do wonders.”
* * * * *
And so the plans were made, and the schemers, who were all actuated by
an honest desire for Patty’s happiness, began to watch for
opportunities.
As Mrs. Van Reypen had surmised, in her wise, canny mind, there were
ways, unobtrusive and delicate, by which the two young people could be
thrown together more frequently and none of these was neglected. Nothing
insistent or noticeable was ever attempted, but after a time, Patty
found herself relying on Philip’s advice and judgment, and unconsciously
referring questions to him for settlement.
Mrs. Van Reypen and the elder Fairfields noted this approvingly, and the
whole circle of young people came gradually to look on Philip as Patty’s
special property.
Van Reypen was by no means averse to this, and he adopted an attitude of
ownership, which, as it became definite, was quickly resented by Patty.
“Look here, Phil,” she said one day; “you needn’t act as if I belonged
to you. Don’t decide things for me without my consent.”
“Forgive me, Patty. I’ve no wish to offend. But you will belong to me
some day, and I suppose I’m too impatient for the day to come.”
“How do you know I will?”
“It’s written in the stars. We were made for each other. You’ll wake up
to the fact some day, perhaps soon.”
“I ha’e me doots,” said Patty, in roguish mood, and her light laughter
checked the more serious words that rose to Philip’s lips. He was
content to bide his time.
One day he telephoned to Patty that Mrs. Van Reypen was not well and
begged she would come over.
“Is she ill?” asked Patty in surprise, for the hale old lady was a
valetudinarian.
“Not quite that, but she has a cold, and she wants cheering up.”
So Patty ordered the car and went right over. She found that Mrs. Van
Reypen did, indeed, have a cold, and a severe one. Patty was alarmed and
insisted on calling the doctor, who pronounced it a case of grip, and
ordered the patient to bed.
Patty remained over night, for Mrs. Van Reypen was feverish and too
nervous and worried about herself to be left to the care of servants.
Late in the evening, however, she became quieter, and begged Patty to
leave her to herself for a time, and go downstairs and sit with Philip
and cheer up the poor boy.
So, having made the sick lady as comfortable as she could, Patty ran
downstairs for a while.
She was garbed in a boudoir robe of Mrs. Van Reypen’s. She had discarded
her street gown as being out of place in the sick room, and had rummaged
in her hostess’ wardrobe until she selected one of the many house gowns
and negligées that hung there.
It was utterly inappropriate for the girl, being made of purple silk,
with a wide berthé of Duchess lace. But it made Patty look very quaint
and sweet,—like a maid of olden time. She had twisted her curls up
high, and added a large carved ivory comb, from the dressing table.
“The Puritan Maiden, Priscilla,” she had said, laughingly as she
pirouetted before her hostess.
“A very fetching garb,” remarked the old lady. “You may have it to keep.
You can use it in your amateur theatricals, or such dressings up, and
the berthé is of valuable old lace.”
Patty thanked her kind friend, but to tell the truth, she was so
accustomed to receiving gifts from Mrs. Van Reypen that one more was but
as a drop in the bucket.
So, on being dismissed from the sick room, Patty ran lightly downstairs,
and into the library. Only a shaded table light was turned on, and in
the glow of the firelight Philip sat, in an easy chair, smoking. When he
heard Patty enter, he threw his cigar in the fire, and holding out his
arm, he drew her down to the broad tufted arm of the great chair he sat
in.
“How goes it upstairs?” he asked, casually.
“Not very well,” said Patty, soberly. “I don’t want to be a ‘calamity
howler,’ but I think Lady Van is more ill than she knows. This grip is a
treacherous thing, and liable to take sudden turns for the worse. And,
too, she is not as young as she once was, and so, Philip, I want you to
take all precautions. I will look after her tonight, but tomorrow you
must get a nurse.”
“Of course I will. Send for one now, if you say so.”
“No, I can manage for tonight. She is resting quietly now. She is bright
and cheery, you understand, but she is weak, and the disease has a
strong hold on her.”
“Patty, what a dear girl you are!” Philip spoke in a fine, honest, manly
way, and Patty thrilled at his so sincere praise. “You are one in a
thousand! Indeed, I’m sure there never was another like you.”
“Go ’way wid yer blarney,” laughed Patty, a least bit embarrassed
because she knew it was not mere blarney.
“It’s the truth, dear, and you know it. Oh, Patty, wouldn’t it be nice
if you lived here all the time?”
“So I could take care of Lady Van?” and her light laugh rang out.
“Yes, and so you could take care of me. I need taking care of,—that is,
I need you to take care of me.”
“Why, Philip, you’re the most capable person I know. You can take care
of yourself.”
“Well, then, I wish you lived here so I could take care of you. Would
you like that, you little Colonial Dame?”
“I’m pretty independent. I’m not sure I’d take kindly to being taken
care of.”
“You would like the way _I’d_ take care of you, I promise you that!”
“Why, how would it be?”
Patty knew she was playing with fire. She knew that unless she meant to
encourage Philip Van Reypen, she ought not to lead him on in this way.
But Patty was very feminine, and the temptation to know just what he
meant was very strong.
“Well,” Philip laid his warm hand gently on hers, “in the first place,
you should never know a care or a trouble that I could bear for you.”
“H’m,” said Patty, “that’s comforting, but not so very entertaining.”
“You little witch! Do you want entertainment? Well, then, I’d make it my
life work to invent new entertainments for you every day. How’s that?”
“That’s better,” and naughty Patty showed animated delight at the
prospect. “What would the entertainments be like?”
“That’s telling. They’d be surprises, and I can’t divulge their secrets
till you do come to live here?”
“I did live here once,” said Patty, smiling at the recollection. “As
Lady Van’s companion.”
“And now won’t you come and live here as my companion?”
“Oh, are you getting old enough to need a companion?”
“I sure am! I’m twenty-six, and that’s the very exact age when a man
wants a companion, or, at any rate, this man does. Will you, Patty
Precious?”
“I dunno. Tell me more about these entertainments.”
“Well, they should comprise all the best ones that are to be found on
the face of the earth. And when you tired of them, I would make up new
ones.”
“Parties?”
“Yes, parties of every sort. Dances, theatre parties, motor parties,
dinner parties,——”
“And little twosy parties,—just you and me all alone?”
“Patty! you witch! do you want to drive me crazy? Now, just for that,
you’ve got to say yes, and live here with me, and have all the little
twosy parties you want!”
“But, Philip, _I_ proposed them, you didn’t!” and Patty pouted until her
scarlet lips looked like a cleft cherry.
“Because I didn’t dare. Do you suppose I let myself think that you would
care for such?”
“Well, I don’t know as I do. I’ve never tried them!” And Patty ran out
of the room.