CONFIDENCES
Mona went home with Patty to dinner, as she often did when the girls
had been together during the afternoon.
At the dinner table the elder Fairfields were greatly entertained by
the account of the first Happy Saturday Afternoon.
"But aren't you afraid," Mr. Fairfield asked, "that such unaccustomed
luxuries will make those people discontented with their own conditions?"
"Now, father Fairfield," exclaimed Patty, "you ought to know better
than that! you might as well say that a man in a prison ought never to
see a ray of sunlight, because it would make him more discontented
with his dark jail."
"That's true," agreed Nan; "I think it's lovely to give these people
such a pleasure, and if I can help in any way, Patty, I'll be glad
to."
"And then it's the memory of it," said Mona.
"You know yourself how pleasant it is to look back and remember any
pleasure you may have had; and when it's only one, and such a big one,
the pleasure of remembrance is even greater."
"That's good philosophy, Mona," said Mr. Fairfield, approvingly, "and
I take back what I said. I think the plans you girls have made are
excellent; and I, too, will be glad to help if I can."
"Other people have offered to help us," began Mona, but Patty
interrupted her, saying: "We don't want any help from people
individually. I mean, father, if you will lend us the car, and things
like that, we'll be glad, of course. But we don't want any personal
assistance in our plans."
"All right, chickadee; far be it from me to intrude. But I thought
perhaps if you wanted to make a little excursion, say, to see the
Statue of Liberty, or even to go to the circus, you might like a man
along with you as a Courier General."
"That's just what Mr. Lansing said!" exclaimed Mona, which was the
very remark Patty had been fearing.
"That's just what we're _not_ going to do!" she declared. "We're only
going to places where we can go by ourselves, or if we need a
chaperon, we'll take Nan. But we don't want any men in on this deal."
"I don't see why," began Mona, but Patty promptly silenced her by
saying, "You _do_ see why. Now, Mona, don't say anything more about
it. There isn't any circus now, and it's time enough when it comes, to
decide about going to it; and I don't want to go, anyway. There are
lots of things nicer than a circus."
"Mr. Lansing said he'd send us a box for the Hippodrome, some Saturday
afternoon," said Mona, a little diffidently.
"That's awfully kind of him," said Nan. "I should think you girls
would be delighted with that."
"A box," and Patty looked scornful. "Why, a box only holds six, so
with us four, we could only invite two guests. I don't think much of
that scheme!"
"I'll donate a box also," said Mr. Fairfield. "You can get them
adjoining, and with two of you girls in one and two in the other, you
can invite eight guests."
Patty hesitated. The plan sounded attractive, and she quickly thought
that she could invite Rosy for one of the guests and give the boy a
Happy Saturday Afternoon. But she didn't want to accept anything from
Mr. Lansing, though she couldn't quite bring herself to say so,
frankly.
"What's the matter, Patty?" asked Nan. "You don't like the idea of the
Hippodrome, though I don't see why."
"I _do_ like it," said Patty, "but we can't decide these things in a
minute. We ought to have a meeting of the club and talk it over."
"Nonsense," said Mona. "You know very well, Patty, it isn't a formal
club. I'm going to accept these two Hippodrome boxes, and tell the
girls that we can each invite two guests. The Hippodrome show is
lovely this year, and anybody would like it, whether children or
grown-ups. And we're much obliged to you, Mr. Fairfield."
"You're taking a great deal upon yourself, Mona," said Patty. "You're
not president of the club."
"Neither are you."
"Well, _I'm_ not dictating how things shall be run."
"Well, I _am_! So all you'll have to do, is to run along with me."
Mona was so laughingly good-natured that Patty's serious face broke
into a smile, too. She was annoyed at the idea of being under
obligation to Mr. Lansing, but, after all, it was hardly fair to stand
in the way of eight people's pleasure. So she surrendered gracefully.
"All right, Mona," she said; "we'll have the Hippodrome party. I know
one guest I shall invite, who's sure to enjoy it. He's a boy about
fourteen, and the funniest thing you ever saw."
"I'd like to take children, too," said Mona; "but I don't know many. I
think I'll ask Celeste's two little sisters."
It was characteristic of Patty not to dwell on anything unpleasant, so
having made up her mind to accept Mr. Lansing's favour, she entered
heartily into the plan for the next party.
But after dinner, when the girls were alone in Patty's boudoir, she
said to Mona, seriously, "You know I didn't want to take that box from
Mr. Lansing."
"Of course I know it, Patty," and Mona smiled, complacently. "But I
made you do it, didn't I? I knew I should in the end, but your father
helped me unexpectedly, by offering a second box. Now, Pattikins, you
may as well stop disliking Mr. Lansing. He's my friend, and he's going
to stay my friend. He may have some faults, but everybody has."
"But, Mona, he isn't our sort at all. I don't see _why_ you like him."
"He mayn't be your sort, but he's mine; and I like him because I like
him! That's the only reason that anybody likes anybody. You think
nobody's any good unless they have all sorts of aristocratic ancestry!
Like that Van Reypen man who's always dangling after you."
"He isn't dangling now," said Patty. "I haven't seen him since my
party."
"You haven't! Is he mad at you?"
"Yes; he and Roger are both mad at me; and all on account of your old
Mr. Lansing!"
"Yes, Roger's mad at me, too, on account of that same poor,
misunderstood young gentleman. But they'll get over it. Don't worry,
Patty."
"Mona, I'd like to shake you! I might just as well reason with the
Rock of Gibraltar as to try to influence _you_. Don't you know that
your father asked me to try to persuade you to drop that Lansing man?"
Patty had not intended to divulge this confidence of Mr. Galbraith,
but she was at her wit's end to find some argument that would carry
any weight with her headstrong friend.
"Oh, daddy!" said Mona, carelessly. "He talks to me by the hour, and I
just laugh at him and drum tunes on his dear old bald head. He hasn't
anything, really, against Mr. Lansing, you know; it's nothing but
prejudice."
"A very well-founded prejudice, then! Why, Mona, that man isn't fit
to--to----"
"To worship the ground I walk on," suggested Mona, calmly. "Well, he
does, Patty, so you may as well stop interfering."
"Oh, if you look upon it as interfering!"
"Well, I don't know what you call it, if not that. But I don't mind.
Go ahead, if it amuses you. But I'm sorry if my affairs make trouble
between you and your friends. However, I don't believe Mr. Van Reypen
will stay angry at you very long. And as for Roger,--well, I wouldn't
worry about him. Of course, you're going to Elise's dance on Tuesday
night?"
"Yes, of course. And I've no doubt I'll make up with Roger, then; but
I don't know about Philip. I doubt if he'll be there."
"I haven't the least doubt. Where you are, there will Mr. Van Reypen
be, also,--if he can possibly get an invitation."
* * * * *
Mona was right in her opinion. At Elise's dance on Tuesday night,
almost the first man Patty saw, as she entered the drawing-room, was
Philip Van Reypen. He greeted her pleasantly, but with a certain
reserve quite different from his usual eager cordiality.
"May I have a dance, Miss Fairfield?" he said, holding out his hand
for her card.
Quick-witted Patty chose just the tone that she knew would irritate
him. "Certainly, Mr. Van Reypen," she said, carelessly, and as she
handed him her card, she turned to smile at another man who was just
coming to speak to her. When Philip handed back her card, she took it
without looking at it, or at him, and handed it to Mr. Drayton,
seemingly greatly interested in what dances he might select.
Van Reypen looked at her a moment in amazement. He had intended to be
cool toward her, but the tables were turned, and she was decidedly
cool toward him.
However, his look of surprise was not lost upon Miss Patricia
Fairfield, who saw him out of the corner of her eye, even though she
was apparently engrossed with Mr. Drayton.
And then, as usual, Patty was besieged by several men at once, all
begging for dances, and her card was quickly filled.
"What _can_ I do with so many suitors?" she cried, raising her hands
in pretty bewilderment, as her card was passed from one to another.
"Don't take all the dances, please; I want to save some for my special
favourites."
"Meaning me?" said Kenneth Harper, who had just joined the group in
time to hear Patty's remark.
"You, for one," said Patty, smiling on him, "but there are seventeen
others."
"I'm two or three of the seventeen," said Roger, gaining possession of
the card. "May I have three, Patty?"
One look flashed from Roger's dark eyes to Patty's blue ones, and in
that glance their foolish little quarrel was forgiven and forgotten.
Roger had a big, generous nature, and so had Patty, and with a smile
they were good friends again.
Patty's mind worked quickly. She had no intention of giving Roger
three dances, but she saw that he and Mona were not yet on speaking
terms. So she nodded assent, as he scribbled his initials in three
places, thinking to herself that before the evening was over, two of
them should be transferred to Mona's card.
Patty was looking lovely in pale blue chiffon with tiny French
rosebuds of pink satin adorning it here and there. Her golden hair was
clustered in becoming puffs and curls, tucked into a little net of
gold mesh, with coquettish bunches of rosebuds above each ear.
But, though Patty was pretty and wore lovely clothes, her chief charm
was her happy, smiling face and her gay, good-natured friendliness. She
smiled on everybody, not with a set smile of society, but in a frank,
happy enjoyment of the good time she was having, and appreciation of
the good time that everybody else helped her to have.
"You are all so kind to me," she was saying to Robert Kenton, who had
just come in; "and I want to thank you, Mr. Kenton, for the beautiful
flowers you sent. I do love valley lilies, they're so--so----"
"They're so sentimental," suggested Rob Kenton, smiling.
"Well, yes,--if you mean them to be," said Patty, dimpling at him.
"Any flower is sentimental, if the sender means it so."
"Or if the receiver wants it to be. Did you?" and Kenton smiled back
at her.
"Oh, yes, of _course_ I do!" And Patty put on an exaggeratedly soulful
look. "I'm _that_ sentimental you wouldn't believe! But I forget the
language of flowers. What do lilies of the valley mean,--especially
with orchids in the middle of the bunch?"
"Undying affection," responded Kenton, promptly. "Do you accept it?"
"I'd be glad to, but I suppose that means it lasts for ever and
ever,--so you needn't ever send me any more flowers!"
"Oh, it isn't as undying as all that! It needs to be revived sometimes
with fresh flowers."
"It's a little too complicated for me to think it out now," and Patty
smiled at him, roguishly. "Besides, here are more suitors approaching;
so if you'll please give me back my card, Mr. Kenton,--though I don't
believe there's room for another one."
"Not one?" said the man who took it, disappointedly; for sure enough,
every space was filled. "But there'll be an extra or two. May I have
one of those?"
"Oh, I never arrange those in advance," said Patty. "My partners take
their chances on those. But I'll give you half of this dance," and she
calmly cut in two the one dance against which Philip Van Reypen had
set his aristocratic initials.
Then the dancing began, and what with the fine music, the perfect
floor, and usually good partners, Patty enjoyed herself thoroughly.
She loved dancing, and being accomplished in all sorts of fancy
dances, could learn any new or intricate steps in a moment.
After a few dances she found herself whirling about the room with
Roger, and she determined to carry out her plan of reconciling him and
Mona. Mr. Lansing was not at the dance, for Elise had positively
declined to invite him; and so, though Mona was there, she was rather
cool to Elise, and favoured Roger only with a distant bow as a
greeting.
"You and Mona are acting like two silly idiots," was Patty's somewhat
definite manner of beginning her conversation.
"You think so?" said Roger, as he guided her skilfully round another
couple who were madly dashing toward them.
"Yes, I do. And, Roger, I want you to take my advice and make up with
her."
"I've nothing to make up."
"Yes, you have, too. You and Mona are good friends, or have been, and
there's no reason why you should act as you do."
"There's a very good reason; and he has most objectionable manners,"
declared Roger, looking sulky.
"I don't like his manners, either; but I tell you honestly, Roger,
you're going about it the wrong way. I know Mona awfully well,--better
than you do. And she's proud-spirited, and even a little contrary, and
if you act as you do toward her, you simply throw her into the arms of
that objectionable-mannered man!"
"Good Heavens, Patty, what a speech!"
"Well, of course, I don't mean literally, but if you won't speak to
her at all, on account of Mr. Lansing, why of course she's going to
feel just piqued enough to smile on him all the more. Can't you
understand that?"
"Let her!" growled Roger.
"No, we won't let her,--any such thing! I don't like that man a bit
better than you do, but do you suppose I'm going to show it by being
unkind and mean to Mona? That's not tactful."
"I don't want to be tactful. I want him to let her alone."
"Well, you can't make him do that, unless you shoot him; and that
means a lot of bother all round."
"It might be worth the bother."
"Don't talk nonsense, I'm in earnest. You're seriously fond of Mona,
aren't you, Roger?"
"Yes, I am; or rather, I was until that cad came between us."
"He isn't exactly a cad," said Patty, judicially. "I do believe in
being fair, and while the man hasn't all the culture in the world, he
is kind-hearted and----"
"And awfully good to his mother, let us hope," and Roger smiled, a
little sourly. "Now, Patty girl, you'd better keep your pretty little
fingers out of this pie. It isn't like you to interfere in other
people's affairs, and I'd rather you wouldn't."
"Oh, fiddle-de-fudge, Roger! I'm not interfering, and it _is_ my
affair. Mona is my affair, and so are you; and now your Aunt Patty is
going to bring about a reconciliation."
"Not on my part," declared Roger, stoutly;