A DELIGHTFUL INVITATION
Patty was singing softly to herself, as she fluttered around her
boudoir at a rather late hour the next morning. Robed in a soft blue
silk negligee, with her golden curls tucked into a little lace
breakfast cap, she now paused to take a sip of chocolate or a bit of a
roll from her breakfast tray, then danced over to the window to look
out, or back to her desk to look up her calendar of engagements for
the day.
"What a flutter-budget you are, Patty," said Nan, appearing at the
doorway, and pausing to watch Patty's erratic movements.
Patty flew across the room and greeted her stepmother with an
affectionate squeeze, and then flew back and dropped comfortably on
the couch, tucking one foot under her, and thereby dropping off a
little blue silk boudoir slipper as she did so.
"Oh, Nan!" she began, "it was the most exciting party ever! What _do_
you think? Christine and Mr. Hepworth are engaged!"
"Christine! and Gilbert Hepworth!" and Nan was quite as surprised at
the news as Patty could desire.
"Yes, isn't it great! and oh, Nan, what _do_ you think? Christine was
all broken up,--crying in fact,--because,--did you ever know anything
so ridiculous?--because she thought she was taking him away from me!"
Nan looked at Patty a little curiously. "Well; you must know, Patty,
he certainly thought a great deal of you."
"Of course he did! And of course he _does!_--You speak as if he were
dead!--and I think a great deal of him, and I think a heap of
Christine, and I think they are perfectly suited to each other, and I
think it's all just lovely! Don't you?"
"Yes," said Nan, slowly. "Then, you didn't care for him especially,
Patty?"
"Good gracious, Nan, if you mean was I in love with him, I sure was
_not!_ Little girls like me don't fall in love with elderly gentlemen;
and this particular little girl isn't falling in love anyway. Why,
Nan, I'm only just out, and I do perfectly adore being out! I want
three or four years of good, solid outness before I even think of
falling in love with anybody. Of course I shall marry eventually, and
be a beautiful, lovely housekeeper, just exactly like you. But, if you
remember, my lady, you were some few years older than nineteen when
you married my revered father."
"That's true enough, Patty, and I can tell you I'm glad I didn't
accept any of the young men who asked me before Fred did."
"I'm jolly glad, too; and father was in luck when he got you. But
you're not going to be rid of me yet for a long time, I can tell you
that much. Well, more things happened last night. Philip and I made up
our quarrel,--which wasn't much of a quarrel anyway,--and Roger and
Mona are pretty much at peace again; though, if Mona keeps on with
that Lansing idiot, Roger won't stand it much longer. And I'm going to
the opera to-night in the Van Reypen box, and I'm going skating
to-morrow,--oh, there's the mail!"
Patty jumped up and ran to take the letters from Jane, who brought in
a trayful.
"Quite a bunch for you, Nansome," and Patty tossed a lot of letters in
Nan's lap. "And a whole lot of beautiful, fat envelopes for me. 'Most
all invitations, as you can see at a glance. Two or three requests for
charity,--they show on the outside, too. A few bills, a few circulars
and advertisements, and all the rest invitations. Isn't it gorgeous,
Nan, to be invited to such heaps of things?"
"Don't wear yourself out, Patty," returned Nan, a little
absent-mindedly, being absorbed in a letter from her mother.
Having weeded out the more interesting looking letters, Patty returned
to her sofa, and curled up there with both feet under her, looking
like a very pretty and very civilised little Turk. With a slender
paper cutter she slashed all the envelopes, and then went through them
one by one, making running comments of delight or indifference as she
read the various contents.
But suddenly a more excited exclamation broke from her. "Oh, my
goodness, gracious, sakes alive!" she cried. "Nan, _will_ you listen
to this!"
"Wait a minute, honey, till I finish this letter," and Nan went on
reading to herself.
Patty dashed through eight pages of sprawly penmanship, and as soon as
she finished she read it all over again.
"Now, Miss Fairfield, what's it all about?" and Nan folded her own
letter and returned it to its envelope.
"Well, in a nutshell, it's a Christmas Country House Party! Could
anything be more delightfuller?"
"Who, where, what, when?" And Nan patiently awaited further
enlightenment.
"Oh, Nan, it's _too_ gorgeous!" And Patty's eyes ran through the letter
again. "You know Adele Kenerley, who was down at Mona's last
summer,--well, she and Jim have bought a place at Fern Falls,--wherever
that may be,--somewhere up in Connecticut,--in the Berkshires, you
know. Heavenly in summer, dunno what it'll be in winter. But all the
same that's where the house party is, Christmas,--stay two or three
weeks,--all our crowd,--oh, Nan! isn't it beatific!"
Patty bounded to her feet, and gathering up the sides of her
accordion-pleated gown, she executed a triumphant dance about the
room, winding up by kicking her little blue silk slipper straight over
Nan's head.
"Moderate your transports, my love," Nan said, calmly. "I don't want
concussion of the brain, from being hit by a French heel."
"Not much of a compliment to my skilful ballet dancing," and Patty
flung herself into the cushions again. "But, Nan, you don't understand;
everybody's going! Elise and Mona and the boys, and oh, gracious, _do_
show some enthusiasm!"
"Don't have to," said Nan, smiling, "when you show enough for a
dozen."
"Well, I'll call up Mona, she'll have something to say."
Patty reached for the telephone, and in a few moments both girls were
talking at once, and the conversation ran something like this:
"Yes, I did, and, Patty----"
"Of course I am! Oh, I don't know about that! If I----"
"But of course if Daisy is there----"
"Well, we can't help that, and anyway----"
"Tuesday, I suppose; but Adele said----"
"No, Monday, Mona, for us, and the boys----"
"I'm not sure that I'll go. You see----"
"Now, stop such nonsense! Of course he isn't invited, but I'll never
speak to you again if----"
"Oh, of course I will, but I'll only stay----"
"Yes, all our best frocks, and lots of presents and, oh, Mona, come on
over here, do. There's oceans of things to talk about!"
"All right, I will. Good-bye."
"Good-bye." And Patty hung up the receiver. "She's coming over here,
Nan; there's so much to plan for, you know. Do help me, won't you? A
regular Christmas tree, and all that, you know; and presents for
everybody, and a dance at the country club, and I don't know what
all."
"Yes, you will have a lovely time." And Nan smiled with sympathy at
the excited girl, whose sparkling eyes and tumbled hair betokened her
state of mind.
Mona came over and spent the rest of the day, and plans were made and
unmade and remade with startling rapidity.
Mona began to voice regrets that Mr. Lansing was not invited to the
house party, but Patty interrupted at once:
"Now, Mona Galbraith, you stop that! Adele has a lovely party made
up, and you're not going to spoil it by even so much as a reference to
that man! Roger will be there for Christmas, and if that isn't enough
for you, you can stay home!"
"Isn't Elise going?"
"No, she can't. She's going South next week with her mother, and I
doubt if Philip Van Reypen will go. His aunt won't want him to leave
her at the holidays. Do you know, I'm a little sorry Daisy Dow is up
there."
"You don't like her, do you, Patty?"
"I would, if she'd like me. But she's always snippy to me."
"'Cause she's jealous of you," observed Mona, sapiently.
"Nonsense! She has no reason to be. I never interfere with her."
"Well, never mind, don't let her bother you. Hal Ferris will be there.
You don't know him, do you? He's Adele's brother."
"No, I never met him. She wrote that he'd be there."
"He's the dearest boy. Well, he's older than Adele, but he seems like
a boy,--he's so full of capers. Adele says it's a beautiful big
house, just right for a jolly, old-fashioned Christmas party."
* * * * *
The days simply flew by as Christmas drew nearer. There was so much to
do socially, and then there were the Happy Saturday Afternoons to be
planned and carried out, and the Christmas shopping to be done.
This last was greatly added to because of the house party, for Patty
knew the generosity of her hosts, and she wanted to do her share in
the presentation festivities.
She undertook to dress a huge doll for baby May. Nan helped her with
this or she never could have finished the elaborate wardrobe. She
selected a beautiful doll, of goodly size, but not big enough to be
cumbersome to little two-year-old arms. With her knack for dressmaking
and her taste for colour, she made half a dozen dainty and beautiful
frocks, and also little coats and hats, and all the various accessories
of a doll's outfit.
She bought a doll's trunk and suit-case to contain these things, and
added parasol, furs, jewelry, and all the marvellous little trinkets
that the toy shop afforded.
"I spent so much time and thought on this doll," said Patty, one day,
"that I shall have to buy things for the others. I can't sew any more,
Nan; my fingers are all like nutmeg graters now."
"Poor child," sympathised Nan. "You have worked hard, I know, but
Adele will appreciate it more than if you had made something for
herself. By all means buy the rest of your gifts."
So Patty bought a beautiful luncheon set of filet lace and embroidery
for Mrs. Kenerley, and an Oriental antique paper cutter for her
husband.
She bought a handsome opera bag for Mona and a similar one for Daisy
Dow, that there might be no rivalry there. She bought a few handsome
and worth-while books for the men who would be at the party, and
attractive trinkets for the house servants.
Of course, in addition to these, she had to prepare a great many gifts
for her New York friends, as well as for her own family and many of
her relatives. But both Patty and Nan enjoyed shopping, and went about
it with method and common sense.
"I can't see," said Patty, as they started off in the car one morning,
"why people make such a bugbear of Christmas shopping. I think it's
easy enough."
"Perhaps it's because you have plenty of money, Patty. You know, not
every one has such a liberal father as you have."
Patty looked thoughtful. "I don't think it's that, Nan; at least, not
entirely. I think it's more common sense, and not being fussy. Now, I
give lots of presents that cost very little; and then, of course, I
give a lot of expensive ones, too. But it's just as easy to buy the
cheap ones, if not easier. You just make up your mind what you want to
spend for a certain present, and then you buy the nicest thing you see
for that amount. It's when people fuss and bother, and can't make up
their minds among half a dozen different things, that they get worried
and bothered about Christmas. I do believe most of their trouble comes
from lack of decision, which is only another way of saying that they
haven't common sense or even common gumption!"
"Well, Patty, whatever else you may lack, you certainly have common
sense and gumption; I'll give you credit for them."
"Thank you, Nan; much obliged, I'm sure. I wish I could return the
compliment, but sometimes I think you haven't much of those things
yourself."
Nan flashed a smile at Patty, entirely unmoved by this criticism; for
she knew that she was vacillating and sometimes undecided, as compared
to Patty's quick-witted grasp of a subject and instantaneous decision.
"Have I told you," said Patty, "what we're going to do next Saturday
afternoon? I do think it's going to be lovely. And I do hope it won't
make the girls mad, but I don't think it will. You know, Nan, what an
awful lot of things we all get every Christmas that we don't want and
can't use, although they're awfully pretty and nice. We just lay them
away in cupboards, and there they stay. Well, on Saturday, we're going
to take a lot of these things and give them to people."
"For Christmas presents? Why, Christmas is two weeks off yet."
"That's just it! Not for presents to themselves, but presents for them
to give to other people."
"Oh, I begin to see."
"Yes; it isn't the least bit _charity_, you see. Why, one of the people
I'm going to give things to, is Christine. With her work, and being
engaged and all, she hasn't any time to make things, or even to go
shopping, and she can't afford to buy much, anyway. So I'm going to give
her one or two beautiful silk bags that were given to me two or three
years ago. They're perfectly fresh, never been out of their boxes. And
I'm going to give her one or two beautiful, fine handkerchiefs in boxes,
and two or three lovely books, and two or three pieces of bric-a-brac,
and a Japanese ivory carving. Don't you see, Nan, she can give these to
her friends for Christmas, and it will save her a lot of trouble and
expense. And dear knows, _I_ don't want them! My rooms are chock-a-block
with just such things, now. And I know she won't feel offended, when I
tell her about it straightforwardly."
"Of course she won't be offended with you, Patty; and I think the idea
is lovely. I've a lot of things put away I'll give you. I never
thought of such a thing before."
"The girls thought at first that maybe it might not work, but I talked
them around and now they're all in for it. I'm going to take some
things to Mrs. Greene. I've quite a lot for her, and I'll tell her she
can give them all away, or keep some herself, just as she likes. And
I've things for Rosy, that freckled-faced boy, you know. I have games
and picture-puzzles and books that I used to have myself. Of course
they're all perfectly new. I wouldn't give anything that had been used
at all. And we're going Saturday afternoon to take these things
around. Mona has lovely things, and so has Elise. You see, we get so
many Christmas and birthday presents, and card party prizes, and such
things, and I do think it's sensible to make use of them for
somebody's pleasure instead of sticking them away in dark cupboards.
And, Nan, what do you think?--with each lot of things we're going to
give a dozen sheets of white tissue paper and a bolt of holly ribbon
and some little tags so they can fix up real Christmassy presents to
give away."
"Patty, you're a wonder," said Nan, looking affectionately at the girl
beside her. "How do you think of all these things?"
"Common sense and general gumption," returned Patty. "Very useful
traits, _I_ find 'em. And here we are at our first shopping place."
Assisted by Patty's common sense and expeditious judgment, they
accomplished a great deal that morning, and returned home with their
lists considerably shortened.
"It does seem funny," said Patty, that same afternoon, "to be tying up
these things almost two weeks ahead of time. But with all the
newspapers and magazines urging you to do your shopping early, and
send off your parcels early, you can't really do otherwise."
Patty was surrounded by presents of all sorts, boxes of all sizes,
pieces of ribbon, and all sorts of cards and tags.
"I'm sick and tired of holly ribbon and red ribbon," she said, as she
deftly tied up her parcels. "So, this year, I'm using white satin
ribbon and gilt cord. It's an awfully pretty combination, and these
little green and gilt tags are lovely, don't you think?"
Her audience, which consisted of Elise and Mona, were watching her
work with admiration. They had offered to help, but after an
ineffectual attempt to meet Patty's idea of how a box should be tied
up, they abandoned the effort, and sat watching her nimble fingers
fly.
"You ought to get a position in some shop where they advertise, 'only
experienced parcel wrappers need apply,'" said Elise. "I never saw
such neat parcels."
"You're evidently going to be an old maid," said Mona, "you're so
fussy and tidy."
"I do like things tidy," admitted Patty, "and if that interferes with
my having a husband, why, of course I'll have to give him up. For I
can't stand not having things neat about me."
"Do you call this room neat?" asked Elise, smiling as she looked about
at the scattered boxes and papers, cut strings, and little piles of
shredded tissue.
"Yes, I do," declared Patty, stoutly. "This kind of stuff can be
picked up in a jiffy, and then the room is all in order. This is
temporary, you see. By untidiness, I mean dirt and dust, and bureau
drawers in a mess, and desks in disorder."
"That's me," confessed Mona, cheerfully. "Not the dirt and dust,
perhaps,--the maids look after that. But I just _can't_ keep my
belongings in their places."
"Neither can I," said Elise. "I don't see how you do it, Patty."
"Oh, pshaw! it's no credit to me, I just can't help it. I'd have a fit
if they weren't all nice and in order. And if that means I'm going to
be an old maid, I can't help it,--and I don't care!"
"Hoo-hoo!" said Elise.