AN INVITATION
Notwithstanding the experience of the evening, Patty slept dreamlessly
all night, and was only awakened, when Jane came in the morning with
her breakfast tray.
"Hello, Jane," she said, sleepily, opening her eyes, "will you ask Mrs.
Fairfield to come up here right away?"
"What is it, Patty?" said Nan, appearing a moment later; "are you ill?
Jane said you wanted me right away."
"No, I'm not ill," and Patty gave her stepmother a quizzical glance.
"Sit down, Nan, and brace yourself for a shock. In me you behold a
charming young debutante who has received her first proposal from a
most worthy young man."
"Good gracious, Patty! Kenneth?"
"None other!" And Patty waved her hand dramatically.
"Naturally, I'm not overcome with amazement, as he spoke to Fred about
it first. Kenneth always has good manners. Well, and what did you say,
Patty?"
Patty eyed Nan, provokingly. "What do you think, Nancy?"
"Honestly, Patty, I haven't the slightest idea. Ken is splendid, I
think,--but----"
"But what, Nan?" And Patty looked deeply interested.
"First, what did you say?"
"I won't tell you, until you tell me what you meant by 'but.'"
"Why, I only meant that Kenneth is,--well he's a dear and all that, but
he's so----"
"Oh, fiddlesticks, Nan, say it out! Dull, prosaic, old-fogy, poky,
slow."
"Patty, Patty! those words are too strong! Ken isn't all those things!
He's only,--just a little bit----"
"Just a day and a half behind the times. Or else I'm a day and a half
ahead of them. Well, Nan, that's what I told him."
"What! that he was dull and old-fogy?"
"Not exactly those terms; but in a few well-chosen words I gave him
that impression, or tried to. By the way, Nan, I danced all round the
room while he was proposing. Was that correct?"
"Patty, stop your nonsense! Will you never be grown-up? You shall not
make fun of Kenneth."
"Oh, Nan, I only wish I could! You might as well try to make fun of the
Public Library. Kenneth is an institution. I always feel like saying to
him, 'Sail on, sail on, oh, Ship of State!' or something like that.
Now, wait a minute, Nan; don't you think I don't appreciate his
sterling qualities. Like a Ship of State, he's made of pure
granite,--oh, NO, they don't make ships of granite, do they?--I mean
like the Public Library, you know. And he has solid
foundations,--mental, moral, and physical. But he hasn't any fancy work
about him. Even the Public Library has flags flying,--but Ken never
thinks of anything as gay as a flag."
"Patty, you're talking a lot, but I do believe you know what you're
saying;--it's true, dear. And are you going to marry him?"
"Marry him!" And Patty looked distinctly aggrieved. "Why, Nan, do you
think for a moment I'd accept my first proposal? No, sir-ee! After I've
had half a dozen, I may take one seriously, but not before. How can I
tell until I've seen various sorts? Why, Nan, Kenneth didn't go down on
his knees at all! I thought they always did. Didn't father, when he
asked you?"
"Oh, Patty, I thought you were up-to-date! Kneeling proposals went out
with the Colonials! It's only a tradition, now."
"Gracious, Nan, how experienced you are! But I don't think I shall
accept anybody until he kneels to me. But don't tell anybody that, for
I don't want them all doing it on purpose."
"Patty," and Nan spoke seriously, "it's all very well for you to rattle
on like this, but you mustn't treat Ken's proposal lightly. He's a
splendid man and he's terribly in love with you----"
"Wait a minute, Nan," and Patty was quite as earnest as the other. "Ken
isn't TERRIBLY in love with me. I'd like it better if he were. He's
deeply in love, even earnestly,--almost solemnly, but----"
"That's the best sort, Patty. Remember, dear, flirtation is all very
well; but in the man you marry you want those qualities you've just
mentioned."
"Oh, Nan, don't you be serious, too! Ken's seriousness almost finished
me. And I suppose father will take the same tack! Oh, I don't want to
be grown-up,--I think it's HORRID!"
Nan looked sympathetically at Patty.
"I suppose, right here," Patty went on, "I ought to burst into tears.
Don't girls always cry over their first proposal? But, Nan, I feel more
like giggling. I can't help it. It seems so ridiculous for Kenneth and
me to go through that scene we had last evening. We've been friends so
long, and then for him, all of a sudden----"
"It wasn't sudden with him, Patty. He's been in love with you for
years."
"Yes, so he says. Well, Nan, I don't HAVE to marry him, do I?"
"No, of course not."
"Well, then, I'm not going to! And I don't want to be treated as if I
were an ingrate because I don't! Ken is a splendid man, noble souled
and all that, but I don't love him and never shall. Now please, Nan, be
nice to me."
"Why, Patty, dear, I never dreamed of NOT being nice to you! I do want
you to realise what you're throwing away, but if you couldn't be happy
with Ken, of course, you mustn't marry him. He's a very different
temperament from you, and I think myself he would be a sort of a weight
on your buoyant nature. And if you're sure of your own heart, that's
all there is about it. But you must tell Ken so, just as kindly as
possible, for I know it will be an awful blow to the poor fellow. Did
you tell him?"
"Yes, I did, but he insisted that I should think it over."
"Well, think it over. It won't hurt you to do that. And if you keep
getting more and more certain that you don't love Kenneth and never
will, then you'll know you're right in your decision. You're a dear
girl, Patty, and I want you to marry some time, and just the right man."
"As you did."
"Yes, as I did," and Nan gave a happy smile. "You will probably marry
some one nearer your own age, Patty, but you can never be any happier
than Fred and I are."
"I believe you, you dear old thing! Oh, here's the mail, and I have not
touched my breakfast yet."
Jane came in with a lot of letters, and Patty pounced upon one in
particular.
"Here's a letter from Adele," she cried. "I hope she's coming to the
city, she's been talking of it."
But instead of that news, the letter contained an invitation for Patty
to come up to Fern Falls for a visit.
"Come to spend May-day," Adele wrote. "I'm having a small house party;
in part, a reunion of our Christmas crowd. Daisy is here and Hal, of
course, and we all want you. Invite one or two of your beaux, if you
like, but don't bring any more girls; for we have two or three new
neighbours with a superfluity of daughters. Come as soon as you can,
and stay as long as you will, and bring your prettiest frocks. Oceans
of love from me and Jim. Adele."
"That's good," said Nan, as she read the letter. "Why don't you start
right off, Patty? Adele says to invite some young men if you like. You
might ask Kenneth!"
"No, thank you. I don't want any of the boys. I'll be glad to get away
from them for awhile. I must have some new frocks, Nan. Something
Springy, you know."
"Yes, we'll go and order them to-day. I'd love to." Nan spoke
absentmindedly, for she was reading her own letters, and Patty
proceeded to open the rest of her mail.
That evening Kenneth came for his answer.
Patty had talked it over with her father, and had concluded the kindest
thing was to tell Kenneth frankly, no.
The scene was not as difficult as Patty had feared, for Kenneth took
the cheerful attitude of believing that she would yet relent.
"So long as there is no one else, Patty, girl," he said, very gently,
"I'm going to hope that you will yet learn to love me. I shall never
despair, until you tell me yourself that you have given your heart to
some one else."
"And we'll be good friends, Ken?"
"You bet we will! You needn't think I'm down and out because you've
said no, once! I'm not awfully swift, Patty, but I'm terribly
persistent,--and I'm just going to keep on loving you, in hope that
some day you'll come to me because you want to."
"But there's no promise, Ken."
"No, dear, no promise. Only a hope in my heart, too deep to be rooted
out, that some day--"
"So--me day! So--ome day!" chanted Patty in a trilling voice, and Ken
smiled in his old, friendly fashion.
"He is awfully nice," Patty said to Nan, afterward, "when he isn't
proposing. There's something about Ken you can't help liking."
And Nan smiled and said, "That's so."
The days flew along, the spring frocks materialised and the grass and
flowers began to be beautiful up at Fern Falls.
Patty went up there a few days before the first of May, and was
welcomed by the Kenerleys with vigorous and jubilant greetings.
"You dear!" exclaimed Adele, as after a rapturous hug she held Patty
off to look at her. "I do believe you're prettier than ever!"
"It's the happiness of coming up here," said Patty, smiling. "I'm so
glad to come, Adele. The country in spring,--and all that, you know."
"Yes," said Adele, laughing. "You know what the Boston girl said: 'Oh,
I just LOVE nature! It ADDS so!' You're like that, aren't you, Patty?"
"Exactly! but spring is all over the city, too. They're selling flowers
on every street corner, and all the pedestrians wear big bunches of
violets or daffodils or magnolias or something. Daisy, you're looking
fine! How long have you been here?"
"I came last week," said Daisy Dow, "and I'm awfully glad to see you
again, Patty."
And then Patty was whisked off to her room, and not until tea-time did
she see the rest of the house party.
Then her host, Jim Kenerley, appeared, and Hal Ferris, Adele's brother,
and, greatly to Patty's surprise, Philip Van Reypen.
"I didn't expect to see you here, Phil," said Patty, after she had
greeted the men of the house.
"I'm only here for a short time," returned Philip; "Mrs. Kenerley
invited me to stay as long as I behaved myself; but you know, Patty, I
can't do that very long."
"No, indeed! You'll be starting to-morrow morning at that rate!"
"Now, Patty, that's unkind of you. However, under your angelic
influence, I may behave well enough to stay till the afternoon train."
"You're a beautiful behaver, Mr. Van Reypen," declared his hostess,
"and I shan't let naughty Patty cast aspersions."
"What are those things, Adele?" asked Patty; "I'm sure I never cast
anything like that at anybody, and I wouldn't hit him if I did. I can't
hit the side of a barn."
"I know they say that about women," said Hal Ferris; "but I believe
it's a base libel. At least, I think they could be taught to accomplish
such a feat. I believe I'll organise a class of young ladies and teach
them how to hit the side of a barn."
"But why hit it at all?" asked Daisy; "what has the poor barn done to
be hit?"
"Lots of people get hit when they don't deserve it," said Kenerley.
"But don't use our barn, Hal, use the neighbour's. Because under your
tuition, your pupils might get proficient enough to hit it."
"I'm so glad to be here when it isn't winter," said Patty, looking
around her. They were having tea on one of the wide verandas, which,
though still enclosed with glass, had many panes open to the spring air.
"From now on, it's lovely here," said Adele; "almost every day we have
one more sash open and then pretty soon we take them all out."
"It was lovely last winter, when we had tea by the hall fireplace, but
this is better still," and Patty leaned back in her Japanese wicker
easy-chair and nibbled contentedly at her plate of little cakes.
The tea hour at the Kenerleys' was always a pleasant affair, and in
warm weather neighbours from the nearby country houses were apt to
stroll over. On this occasion two or three came and Patty became
acquainted with several young ladies.
"You know what I told you," said Adele to Patty, after they had left.
"We have plenty of girls around here, but not many men. So for the
May-party, I want you to ask a few of your friends to come up."
"All right, I will; the boys will all be glad to come. Which ones do
you want?"
"I've already asked Roger Farrington, and we'll see about the others
later."
"All right," said Patty, carelessly; "I've one or two new friends whom
I'm sure you will like."
The next day Patty had a brilliant idea for a joke on Kit Cameron. It
popped into her head quite suddenly, and she gleefully told her scheme
to Adele and Daisy, as they sat together in Adele's own pleasant
sitting-room.
"Doesn't Mr. Cameron know you're up here?" asked Adele.
"No; I haven't seen him for a week or two. He went South with the
Homers and only came home the day I left."
The plan was carefully thought out, amid giggling and laughter, and the
final result was achieved by Patty in the form of a much scribbled
letter.
"Now I'm going down to copy this on Jim's typewriter," she said. And
she flew downstairs to the library, from which opened a small office
fitted up for Mr. Kenerley's home use.
Jim Kenerley had gone to business, and Van Reypen and Hal Ferris were
playing golf, so Patty had the place to herself; and by dint of slow
but persevering pounding on the typewriter, she picked out the
following missive:
"Mr. Christopher Cameron: DEAR MR. CAMERON,
A few weeks ago I heard you play the violin at a concert! Oh, if I
could tell you the raptures that thrilled my soul at the floods of
melody you drew from the insensate strings! Only a poet's spirit, only
a high-strung heart could accomplish such strains! I, too, am of a
musical spirit; I, too, thrill to the notes of the great masters, if
interpreted as they are by you! May I hope that you will not spurn this
outburst of a sympathetic nature, and accept this tribute to your
genius? Could I look for a line,--just a word,--in response to this,
saying that you are glad of my appreciation? Never before have I
written to a stranger. That is why I dare not use my own penmanship.
Please do not seek to find out who I am, but send just a line that I
may know you do not scorn my praise. Address Miss Belle Harcourt, Maple
Bank, Conn."
The conspirators had decided upon the Maple Bank Post-office as being
safer than Fern Falls, if Kit should by any chance hear that Patty had
gone to the Kenerleys'.
"You know," said Patty, as she sealed the letter, "it might be mean to
play this trick on anybody else, but Kit plays so many jokes on other
people, he deserves it. And while he's not over-conceited, yet he's
just vain enough to be tickled to death with this appreciation of his
music. 'Miss Harcourt' will get an answer, all right! Come on, girls,
let's get ready to go to Maple Bank."
And in a short time the three plotters were motoring over to the
adjoining village to post the precious document.
Of course, they did not tell the men about this, and the three kept it
an inviolate secret.
"We can hardly expect an answer for two days," said Patty, "but if I
know Mr. Kit, he'll reply about as quickly as possible."
And sure enough, when the next day but one the three again invaded the
little Maple Bank post-office, there was a letter from New York City
for Miss Belle Harcourt.
"Read it, read it!" cried Daisy as they started homeward with their
prize.
The three sat side by side in the motor, with Patty in the middle, and
they all giggled, as Patty read the letter aloud.
"DEAR MISS HARCOURT:
I cannot tell you what pleasure your letter gave me. It is so
delightful to learn that a stranger is interested in my poor attempts
at making music. And--may I say it?--the personal charm of your letter
has thrilled my heart! Only a pure, sweet, young nature could write as
you do. May I not see you? Or at least will you not send me your
photograph? I know I have no right to ask this, but I would so love to
meet one so sympathetic and appreciative of the great art which is the
ideal of my life.
With many, many thanks for your welcome letter, I am,
Very sincerely yours, CHRISTOPHER CAMERON."
"I knew he'd do it!" cried Patty. "I knew he'd fall for that flattery!
Kit's a perfect dear, but he IS vain of his music, and I don't blame
him. He's a wonderful violinist."
"What are you going to do next, Patty?" asked Adele. "Answer that
letter?"
"Sure!" returned Patty; "but I'm not running this thing alone. We must
all help make up the letter. And, Adele, haven't you some photograph
that will be just right to send?"
As soon as they reached home they hunted over Adele's collection of
photographs, and finally found one that Patty declared just right.
It was a picture of one of Adele's cousins, a girl of about sixteen,
whose sweet young face wore an expression so soulful and languishing
that it was almost comical.
"Hester hates that picture," said Adele; "she never looks that way
really,--like a sick calf,--but somehow the photographer managed to
catch that expression."
"She wouldn't mind if she knew, would she?" said Patty.
"Oh, mercy, no! She'd think it the best joke in the world. She lives in
California, so there's little chance of Mr. Cameron ever seeing her.
Now let's write the letter."
After much agony of composition and much gay fooling, the plotters
produced this:
"DEAR MR. CHRISTOPHER:
I must modify your more formal name a little,--for it seems now as if I
almost knew you. I tremble with fear lest some one should discover that
I write to you. But I cannot help writing. I am impelled by a feeling
in my soul. I send my picture and I wish it were more beautiful. For I
know you love only what is good and beautiful. We must not meet, that
would be TOO dangerous. But will you not write me one more precious
letter that I may keep it forever?
BELLE."
There had been much discussion over the signature. Adele preferred
"Yours devotedly"; Daisy wanted "Yours adoringly"; but Patty stood out
for the name alone, saying that it meant more that way.
And so the letter enclosing the picture was despatched to Kit, who
received it duly.