THE CASINO
On the whole, Elise wore rather well. Although belonging to the
millionaire classes of the city, she was simple and unaffected, and
never referred to her wealth by word or implication. From the first she
was devoted to Patty, and in spite of her many peculiarities Patty
thoroughly liked her. Clementine considered her cranky and Adelaide
thought her too much inclined to dictate. But Elise was entirely
indifferent to their opinions, and independently followed her own sweet
will. If she wanted things done a certain way, she said so, and somehow
they were done that way. If the other girls objected, she quietly
ignored their objections and proceeded serenely on her course. The
result of this was that the others regarded her with mingled
dissatisfaction and admiration, neither of which at all affected Elise.
She made one exception of Patty. She was always willing to defer to
Patty’s wishes, or change her plans in accordance with Patty’s ideas.
Still, as Elise was so good-natured, generous and entertaining, the
girls really liked her, and she proved to be a real acquisition to the
society of Grigs.
On Thursday afternoon she invited them all to go home with her and play
in the Casino.
The girls went directly from school, and a short walk brought them to
Elise’s home.
The Farrington house was really a mansion, and by far the most
magnificent and imposing dwelling that Patty had ever been in. The eight
girls ran up the steps and the door was opened by a footman in livery.
The great hall seemed to Patty like a glimpse into fairyland. Its
massive staircase wound around in a bewildering way, and beautiful palms
and statues stood all about. The light fell softly through stained-glass
windows, and to Patty’s beauty-loving soul it all seemed a perfect
Elysium of form and colour.
She almost held her breath as she looked, but Elise seemed to take it as
a matter of course, and said, “Come on into the library, girls, and
leave your books and things.”
The library was another revelation of art and beauty, and Patty wondered
if the other girls were as much impressed as herself by Elise’s home. It
was not only that unlimited wealth had been used in the building and
furnishing, but somebody’s exquisite and educated taste had directed the
expenditure; and it was this that appealed so strongly to Patty, though
she did not herself understand it.
There was another occupant of the library, whom Elise presented as her
brother Roger. He was a boy of about nineteen, with dark hair and eyes,
like his sister’s, and a kind, frank face. He greeted the girls
pleasantly, without a trace of awkwardness, but after a few casual
remarks he turned aside from the laughing group and stared moodily out
of the window.
“Poor old Roger,” said Elise to Patty, in a low voice, “he’s in a most
awful fit of the blues. Do go and say a few cheering words to him,
there’s a good Grig.”
Always ready to cast a ray of sunshine into anybody’s life, Patty went
toward the disconsolate-looking boy.
“How can you look so sad?” she said, “with a whole room full of merry
Grigs?”
“Because I’m not a Grig, I suppose,” said Roger. He spoke politely
enough, but seemed not at all anxious to pursue the conversation. But
Patty was not so easily daunted.
“Of course, you can’t be a member of our society,” she said, “but
couldn’t you be just a little bit griggy on your own account?”
“My own account doesn’t call for grigginess just at present.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, I have troubles of my own.”
“All the more reason for being merry. How do you expect to get the
better of your troubles if you don’t have fun with them?”
Roger looked at her with a little more interest.
“The trouble that’s bothering me hasn’t come yet,” he said; “it’s only
an anticipation now.”
“Then perhaps it never will come, and you might as well be merry and
take your chances.”
“No, it’s bound to come, and there’s nothing merry about it; it’s just
horrid!”
“Won’t you tell me what it is?” said Patty, gently, seeing that the boy
was very much in earnest.
“Would you really like to know?”
“Yes, indeed; perhaps I could help you.”
Roger smiled. “No,” he said, “you can’t help me; nobody can help me.
It’s only this; I’ve got to have my arm broken.”
“What?” exclaimed Patty, looking at the stalwart youth in amazement.
“Who’s going to break it?”
“I don’t know whether to go to the circus, and let a lion break it, or
whether to fall out of an automobile,” and Roger smiled quizzically at
Patty’s bewildered face.
“Oh, you’re only fooling,” she said, with a look of relief; “I thought
you were in earnest.”
“And so I am,” said Roger, more seriously. “This is the truth: I broke
my arm playing football, a year ago, and when it was set it didn’t knit
right, or it wasn’t set right, or something, and now I can’t bend my
elbow at all.” Roger raised his right arm and showed that he was unable
to bend it at the elbow-joint. “It’s awfully inconvenient and awkward,
as you see; and the only remedy is to have it broken and set over again,
and so that’s the proposition I’m up against.”
“And a mighty hard one, too,” said Patty with a sudden rush of genuine
sympathy. “Are you going to the hospital?”
“Yes; mother wants it done at home—thinks I could be more comfortable,
and all that. But I’d rather go to the hospital; it’s more satisfactory
in every way. But it will be a long siege. Now, Miss Grig, do you see
anything particularly merry in the outlook?”
“Will the breaking part hurt?” asked Patty.
“No, I shall probably be unconscious during the smash. But what I dread
is lying still for several weeks bound up in splints. And I can’t play
in the game this season.”
“You couldn’t, anyway, if you didn’t have it broken, could you?”
“No, of course not.”
“And you never can play football again if you don’t have it broken and
reset?”
“No.”
“Well, then, the outlook is decidedly merry. The idea of your objecting
to the inconveniences of three or four weeks, when it means a lifetime
of comfort and convenience afterwards.”
“Whew! I never looked at it in just that light before, but I more than
half believe you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” said Patty, stoutly. “You’ve got to look at
things in their true proportion. And the proportion of a few weeks in
the hospital against a good arm for the rest of your life is very small,
I can tell you. Especially as you will have the best possible skill and
care, and every comfort and luxury that can be procured. Suppose you
were poor, and had to go to some free hospital, and have inexperienced
doctors practising on you! Why, you might have to have your arm broken
and set a dozen times before they got it right.”
“Well, there is something in that, and I begin to believe my case is
merrier than it might be. At any rate, Miss Grig, you’ve cheered me up a
lot, and I’m duly grateful. I leave home to-morrow for the merry, merry
hospital, so I can only hope that when next we meet I can raise my arm
and shake hands with you a little more gracefully than this.”
Roger put out his stiff arm with an awkward gesture, but with such a
pleasant smile that Patty shook hands heartily and said: “I hope you
will; and until then promise me that you’ll be as merry as a Grig would
be under similar circumstances.”
“I’ll promise to try,” said Roger, and then Elise carried the girls all
off to the Casino.
Though not so elaborately furnished as the Farrington home, the Casino
was perfect in its own way. On the first floor, which they entered by a
door from the main hall of the Farrington house, was a large tennis
court, and in the apartment next to that a squash court. It seemed
strange to see these courts in-doors, but Elise told the girls that
after they had tried them, she felt sure they would like them quite as
well as out-of-door courts.
“At any rate,” she said, “they are the best possible substitute.”
On the floor above was a long bowling alley, a billiard-room and a
bewildering succession of other rooms, some fitted up with paraphernalia
of which Patty did not even know the use.
But she was greatly impressed with the kindness of a father who would
fit out such a wonderful place of delightful recreation for his
children.
“It isn’t only for us,” said Elise, as Patty expressed her thoughts
aloud; “father and mother use it to entertain their friends in the
evenings. There is a card-room and a smoking-room, and up at the top a
big ball-room. But of course we children just use these lower floor
rooms for our games and things. Now, shall we have the meeting first, I
mean the regular society meeting, or play games first and meet
afterwards?”
“Let’s play first,” said Patty, “because we mightn’t have time for
both.”
This was unanimously agreed to and soon the Grigs were quite living up
to their name, as they played various games.
Patty, Elise, Hilda and Editha played tennis at first and afterwards
played basketball, while the others took the tennis court.
After an hour or more of this vigorous exercise they were quite ready to
sit down and rest, and Elise said, “Now we will all go and sit in the
hall and have our meeting.”
This hall was a large square apartment on the second floor. There was an
immense open fireplace, where great logs were cheerfully blazing; and on
either side were quaint, old-fashioned settles, large and roomy, and on
these the girls ranged themselves.
“This is the nicest society,” said Clementine, “because we don’t have to
do anything at any particular time. Now here we are holding a meeting on
Thursday, when Saturday is our regular day. But I don’t see any reason
why we shouldn’t meet any day that happens to suit us.”
“I think so, too,” said Hilda; “we haven’t any rules and we don’t want
any. Has anybody any plans for next week?”
“I have a plan,” said Elise, “though I’m not sure we can arrange it for
next week. But some day I think it would be nice for us to collect a lot
of small children who don’t have much fun in their lives, and bring them
here for a morning or an afternoon in the Casino and just let them romp
and play all they like.”
“That’s a beautiful plan, Elise,” said Patty, her eyes shining; “and
you’re a dear to think of it. Is your mother willing?”
“Yes,” said Elise; “she wasn’t awfully anxious to let me do it at first,
but I coaxed her to and father was willing, so he helped me coax.”
Just here Roger appeared, carrying a large box of candy.
“Hope I don’t intrude,” he said, in his graceful, boyish way; “and I
won’t stay a minute. But I thought that perhaps even merry Grigs could
at times descend to prosaic chocolates.”
“I should say we could!” exclaimed Clementine; “really I don’t know
anything merrier than a box of candy.”
“You’re a perfect duck, Roger, to bring it,” said Elise; “but you must
run away now, for we can’t have boys at Grig meetings. There’s nothing
merry about a boy.”
“All the more reason then,” said Roger, “why I should stay and be
merryfied.”
“No, you can’t,” said his sister, “so go away now and please send mother
here. She said she’d come and meet the girls, so tell her now’s her
chance.”
With comical expressions of unwillingness, Roger went away and in a few
moments Mrs. Farrington came.
She was an ultra-fashionable lady and reminded Patty a little of Aunt
Isabel St. Clair. But though elaborately dressed, her gown was in far
better taste than Aunt Isabel’s gorgeous raiment, and though her manner
was a little conventional, her voice was low and sweet and her smile was
charming.
She did not talk to the girls individually, but greeted them as a whole,
and welcomed them prettily as friends of her daughter.
Then she presented each one with a beautiful little pin made of green
enamel in the design of a cricket.
“It is a real English cricket, or grig,” she said, “and I instructed the
jeweller to make it a merry one.”
Her orders had been carried out, for the little green grigs were jolly
looking affairs, with tiny eyes of yellow topaz that fairly seemed to
wink and blink with fun. The girls were delighted and all agreed that
Mrs. Farrington had conferred the highest possible honour on the society
of Grigs.