A SLEIGHRIDE
"Ready, Bumble?" asked Patty, looking in at her cousin's room.
"Yes, in a minute."
"Oh, I know your minutes! They're half an hour long each! Here,--let me
help you."
Patty straightened Helen's collar, fastened two hooks, found her gloves,
tied her veil, and performed a few more odd services for her, and then
held her fur coat for her to slip into.
"It looks like more snow, but Phil telephoned that we'd go anyway,"
Patty said: "Mona and Roger will meet us up there, and Mr. Herron will
be there too."
"Perfectly fine! I love a sleighride, though goodness knows we get few
enough of them nowadays."
"You won't love it, if we get snowed under, or snowbound at the Club."
"I shan't mind. We'll have Mona and Roger for chaperons and we can stay
till the storm is over. Philip says the house is lovely."
"Yes, the Timothy Grass Golf Club is a splendid place, and the winter
casino,--The Playbox, they call it,--is most attractive. Oh, we'll have
a good time whatever happens."
By way of entertaining Helen, Van Reypen had proposed a day at the
Country Club, and his invitation was eagerly accepted. There was snow
enough on the ground to make good sleighing, and the air was crisp, cold
and clear. Warmly garbed for their trip, the two girls ran downstairs to
find Philip awaiting them.
"Hooray for two plucky ones!" he cried; "I thought maybe you'd back out
on account of the storm."
"Where's the storm?" asked Helen. "I don't see any."
"You wear rose-coloured glasses. There's snow in the air, some flying,
and more waiting above, ready to come down. But not enough to hurt two
such well-befurred Esquimoses! Come along, then."
The novelty of a real old-fashioned sleighride was a great pleasure and
as the fast horses flew along, the girls exclaimed at the new delight of
such transportation.
"Are Roger and Mona going in a sleigh, too?" asked Patty.
"Yes, I think so. They'll come later, as Mona just had a telegram that
her father is coming to see her today."
"But she'll come to us, won't she?" Patty asked, quickly. "She's our
chaperon, you know. It wouldn't do at all for Helen and me to go to the
Club without her."
"Oh, yes, she said she'd come, as soon as her father arrives and she
gets him comfortably welcomed. She's very fond of him, you know."
"Yes, and he's an awfully nice man. What time will we get back, Phil?"
"'Long about five o'clock or so. We won't reach the Club before noon.
Then we'll have time for a game of indoor tennis or whatever you like,
of that sort. Then luncheon, and in the afternoon there's time for a
game of Bridge if you choose."
"Probably we won't do anything but sit around and chatter," opined
Helen, who was not fond of games. "Mr. Herron is coming, isn't he?"
"Yes, my lady. But you mustn't flirt with him, or you'll turn his head
completely."
"She has done that already," laughed Patty; "Mr. Herron just sits and
gazes at my fair cousin, whenever occasion offers."
"Nor can any one blame him for that. Look at the ice jam in the river!
What a winter we're having, to be sure."
"A lovely winter, I think," Helen said, "I adore cold weather, and I
don't mind snow. I like to feel it on my face."
"All the same," Patty put in, "I could do with less of it just now."
The white feathers were flying briskly through the air, and Patty
cuddled her face deep into her high fur collar. She was not quite so
fond of the elements as Helen, and felt the cold more.
"The snow is falling all around,
It's falling here and there;
It's falling through the atmosphere
And also through the air."
Helen chanted the lines to an accompaniment of dashing the flakes from
her veiled face.
"The snow is falling all around,
And wonder fills my cup,
Whether, when it is all snowed down
We won't be all snowed up!"
Patty sang her parody, in a high, clear voice, and then returned to her
depths of collar.
Then Philip took up the game:
"The snow is falling all around,
But you girls needn't fret;
We'll soon arrive where we are bound,
And you'll get warm,--you bet!"
"Lovely, Phil!" murmured Patty, "you do sing like a cherub!"
"Oh, well, I suppose my coloratura is a little off, but every time I
open my mouth the snow snows in!"
"Ought to make liquid notes," said Patty.
"Oh, come now! If you're going to talk like that!"
"I can only sing of Greenland's Icy Mountains," Helen declared, and just
then they came in sight of the Club house.
A huge structure it was, in a large park, and surrounded by trees and
gardens. In summer it was a beautiful spot, but in winter some thought
it even more so. The Golf Links showed great stretches of white and the
bare black limbs of the tall trees made a picturesque foreground. The
house itself, with glassed-in veranda and storm doors, looked like a
haven of refuge.
The girls ran inside, and were greeted by the sound of crackling flames
in a great fireplace.
"I do think a Club is the nicest place!" exclaimed Helen, as she sat
down on a fireside settle. "And this one has such a cheery, hospitable
atmosphere."
"Yes," agreed Patty, "but I don't see many people around. Aren't there
very few, Phil?"
"Rather so. But it's an uncertain quantity, you know. Some days the
place is crowded, and again nearly empty. It's always so in a Club."
"Where's Mona?"
"She'll come soon. I told you she'd be late. Don't fuss, Patty."
"No; I won't," and Patty smiled at him.
But she was anxious, for Patty was conservative by nature, and a close
observer of the conventions. She was unacquainted at this Club, and if
Mona shouldn't come, she felt a grave uncertainty as to what she could
do. She and Helen couldn't stay the day there without Mona, and the
storm was gaining in force.
"I wish you'd telephone," she said to Van Reypen, "and see if they've
started."
"All right, my liege lady, I will. Just wait a minute, till I get this
numbness from my digits."
"Do let him get warm, Patty," Helen remonstrated; "the poor man is
almost frozen, and you send him to telephone about nothing!"
"'Deed it isn't nothing! If for any reason Mona doesn't come, we must go
right home, Helen."
"But don't cross the bridge before you come to it. At least, let me have
a look around. I want to see that sun-parlour and that other palmy nook,
over there! Oh, I think this the most fascinating place I ever saw!"
"It _is_ charming. And I'm glad to be here, but I want things right."
"Patty, you're not unlike Friend Hamlet. You're always setting the world
right."
"I know, Phil, but you don't stop to think. You know we two girls can't
stay here without Mona or some married woman as a chaperon. It doesn't
matter what you think; that's society's law and must be obeyed."
Patty's pink cheeks took on an added flush and her blue eyes grew
violet, as they did when she was very much in earnest.
"I know, Patty; I know, dear. Why, I'm as well acquainted with the
conventions as you are. Do you suppose I want you to do anything not
absolutely correct? But the Farringtons will come directly. They started
later than we did, and the increasing depth of snow may make them longer
on the road. But they're sure to come."
Phil's air of conviction reassured Patty, and she turned to the great
blazing fire again, with a sigh of contentment. There were two or three
Club members about, but save for those and the liveried footmen here and
there, the place was deserted.
Helen, thoroughly warm, jumped from her seat and went about looking at
the various attractive rooms.
"A wonderful library!" she said, returning from her tour of
investigation; "I could be happy there all day, just looking at the
picture papers and books."
"So could I," said Patty, "if we had somebody with us. Why didn't we
bring Nan? That would have made everything all right!"
"Mona's sure to come soon," comforted Helen. "Let up, Patty, you make me
tired with your fussing."
Good-naturedly, Patty "let up" and said no more for the moment.
"Hello, people!" called a cheery voice, and a big figure in uniform came
swinging in.
"Mr. Herron!" cried Helen, running forward to greet him. "I'm so glad
you came! Did you come in your airship?"
"I wish I could have done so, for the going on the ground is something
awful. This is sure one fierce storm!"
Patty went over and lifted a curtain to look out of the window.
"Oh-ee!" she cried out, "it's coming down thicker'n ever! How can Mona
get here? They'll be snowbound, half way here! Phil, please go and
telephone; I _must_ know if they've started."
"Better go quick," laughed Herron, "before the telephone wires are down.
It's that wet, heavy snow that weighs the wires down fearfully."
"All right," and Phil started for the telephone booth.
"They'll get here," opined Bumble; "you worry over nothing, Patty Pink."
"They can't get here unless they started some time ago," Herron said;
"the roads are getting worse every minute."
"Roger will manage somehow," Helen went on. "I know him of old,--and he
isn't to be baulked by a few flakes of snow."
But Phil returned looking serious.
"They're not coming," he announced, briefly, meeting Patty's startled
eyes squarely, but apologetically. "Not on account of the storm, but
because Mona's father arrived, and he isn't well and Mona won't leave
him. She says to tell you she's awfully sorry, but it seems her father
is really pretty ill, and she can't get away."
"Then we must go right home," said Patty, very decidedly. "You know
yourself, Phil, we two girls can't stay here without Mona--or somebody."
"Of course, I know it, Patty. Give me a minute to think. I hate to go
home and give up our nice day here. Maybe we can fix it. I'll go and see
the housekeeper."
"Oh, that would be all right, Phil," and Patty's lovely face broke into
a smile. "If she's a nice motherly or auntly old lady, she'd do
admirably! Go and see about it, do!"
"Let me go," said Herron, "maybe I can fix it up."
He was gone a long time, but he came back smiling.
"The housekeeper isn't here," he announced, "she's gone off for a few
days' holiday. Her present substitute is her daughter, a girl younger
than you girls are. Also there's nobody who can play chaperon to a pair
of lone, lorn damsels but one elderly specimen, who is by way of being a
pastry-cook or something like that. However,----"
"Oh, all right!" cried Helen; "I don't care if she's a pastry-cook or a
laundress if she only satisfies Patty's insane desire for a chaperon!
Will she come? Will she stay by us till we go home?"
"She'll come to luncheon with us," said Herron, "and after that I think
we'd better start for home. The snow is getting deeper, and though it
looks as if the sun might break through the clouds any minute,--yet it
may not, and the drifts are high, and----"
"You're a calamity howler!" cried Helen. "We're here, and we're safe and
warm, and the pie lady will do quite well for a chaperon, and anybody
who grumbles now, is a wet blanket and a pessimist and a catamaran! So,
there, now!"
"All right," Patty laughed; "let me see the elderly dame, and if she
passes muster, I'll stop growling like a bear and be so nice and amiable
you won't know me!"
"I don't know you when you're anything but amiable!" declared Philip;
"where's your friend, Herron? Trot her in."
"She's dressing," Herron returned. "She said she must doll up to meet
the young ladies----"
"Did she use that expression?" asked Patty, severely.
"Oh, no! That's mine. She said she'd put on her other gown,--or
something like that."
"I can't decide till I see her," Patty said; "if she's really all right,
we'll stay. If not, you must take us right home, Phil."
"Your word is my law. When Patty says go, we all goeth! Whew! how it
snows!"
"Never mind the snow," urged Herron; "no matter what the weather when we
four get together! Now, what can we do in the way of high jinks? Anybody
want to try the swimming pool?"
"No, thank you!" and Bumble shivered at the thought. "Can we dance
anywhere?"
"Not till after lunch," said Patty. "Dancing in the morning has gone
out. Besides, it's nearly lunch time now. Let's knit for a while,--and
not go jumping about."
"You're a dormouse, Patty. You'd rather nod over your knitting
needles----"
"I don't nod over them! I knit faster than you do! Come on, start at the
beginning of your needle, and I'll race you for five rows."
The girls settled themselves comfortably by the big fire, and opened
their knitting bags.
"Now, I call this fine!" declared Herron; "what's nicer than to have you
girls sit and knit and we men sit and look at you!"
"There's nothing nicer to look at," said Helen complacently, "on that
we're all agreed. Now, make yourselves entertaining, and we'll call it
square."
Pretty Helen's gay face bent over her khaki-coloured wool, and her
needles clicked bravely in an effort to knit faster than Patty. And she
did, but it was only a spurt. She dropped a stitch, and exclaimed, "Hold
on, Patty, no fair your knitting when I'm picking up this stitch! You
wait now!"
"Not so; a dropped stitch in time loses nine! Come on, hare, catch up
with this old tortoise!"
Calmly, Patty proceeded with her steadily-moving needles, and again
Helen made an hysterical burst of speed and caught up as to distance.
But her wool snarled somehow, and Herron, trying to help her, made it
worse, and the four hands that tried to untangle it only drew it into
tighter knots.
Helen burst out laughing, and awarded Patty the palm.
"It's always so," she acknowledged. "I fly at a thing and tumble all
over myself, and accomplish just about nothing. Patty goes about it
leisurely, and comes in at the last, easily winner, and with a big lot
of work to her credit."
"You flatter me, angel child," Patty smiled. "I knit because I love to
knit, and I get a lot done, because I don't try to beat everybody else.
There, how's that for a helmet? I rather guess some one of Our Boys will
be glad to wear it!"
"I shouldn't mind myself," suggested Herron, timidly, and Patty replied
at once, "Then you shall have it! I'll fit it to your head now."
"You want mine, Philip?" asked Helen, as she industriously "picked back"
a few stitches.
"Yes, if I may be allowed to wear out two or three others while yours is
in process of construction."
"Wot rudeness! To think I should live to hear such! Well, just for that
I'll put all the knots inside!"
"They'll make me think of you!"
"And I'll put a note in it,--that's often done."
"A note of thanks. If the girls did that, it would save many a poor
soldier a lot of trouble! He could just sign it and send it off."
"How unsentimental and ungrateful you are! Why, the boys just love to
get notes in their socks and sweaters and then they love to answer them.
It's no hardship, I can tell you! I've had the notes!"
"You can't have had very many,--you're too young."
Helen gave him a laughing scowl at this fresh fling at her slow progress
and then she threw down her knitting.
"Can't do any more, now. I've come to the place to cast on, and I forget
how many, and I left my paper of directions at home, and----"
"All right, come with me, and let's go and hurry up our chaperon lady,"
said Herron, rising.
"Yes, do," urged Patty, who was in nervous anxiety about that matter.
"Patty's in a pucker!" sang Helen, "like little Tommy Tucker!
What shall she eat? War bread and butter!
How shall she eat it, without a chaperon?
Put her in a padded cell and let her eat alone!"
Helen's foolishness never annoyed Patty, and so she bade the two
ambassadors proceed with their errand and Helen and Mr. Herron went off.
"Trust me, Patty," said Philip, after the others had left the room, "it
will be all right. The snow is lighter now; and we'll go home directly
after luncheon. I don't want you to be disturbed, and I do
understand,--you know I do!"
"Yes, I know it," Patty replied.