MISS YANKEE DOODLE
"You didn't, really!" exclaimed Lady Hamilton, as Patty gleefully
described giving the flowers to Sir Otho Markleham.
"But I did, Kitty, and truly, he _was_ mad enough to pitch me into that
yellow muddy old river. I greatly admire his self-control in not really
doing it. But what eyes he has! So gray and steely, they cut right
through me! And he just said, tragically, 'I have no daughter,' and
stalked away. But--and this is the main thing--he kept the flowers!"
"How do you know?"
"I watched him. I fully expected he'd fling them straight over Parliament
House, but he didn't. He didn't even throw them on the stone floor of the
Terrace, and gr-r-rind them 'neath his iron heel! I can't say that he put
them in his button-hole, for his back was toward me, but I _know_ he kept
them."
"Oh, Patty, you are a silly! You think you've gone far toward healing the
family feud of the Marklehams. But you haven't. My father gave the whole
episode no thought at all, unless it was to think of you as an
impertinent child."
"Well, it was a wedge," said Patty, doggedly, "and if I ever get another
chance at him, I'll hammer it in."
"No, don't, Patty dear; you mean well, I know, but you don't know
father's disposition. If he thought you were an intermediary, he'd be
more stubborn than ever."
"Huh!" said Patty, more expressively than politely; "I'm not going to
make any trouble. Trust your Aunt Patty for that!"
Lady Hamilton laughed, as she always did at Patty's funny American
phrases, and the subject of Sir Otho was dropped.
"Better not mix yourself up in other people's quarrels," said Mr.
Fairfield, when Patty told him about it. "Your motive is a good one, but
an Englishman is not apt to brook interference from an outsider,
especially an American."
"Oh, pshaw, Fred; Patty won't do any harm," said Nan. "Patty's tact is a
match for any English temper, and if she could bring about a
reconciliation, I'd be so glad for that sweet Lady Hamilton."
"All right; I give in. When you two are against me, I hold up my hands."
"We're not against you, Daddy," said Patty, smiling fondly at her father.
"You're on our side, only you don't quite realise it."
"I told you she had tact," laughed Nan, "and she grows cleverer every
day; don't you, Stepdaughter?"
"Yes, Stepmother," replied Patty, gazing at Nan in mock adoration; "since
I have you for a model, how could I do otherwise?"
"You're a pair of sillies," said Mr. Fairfield, laughing at their
nonsense, "and in a vain endeavour to improve your minds, I think I'll
read aloud to you."
"Oh, goody!" cried Patty, for they both loved to hear Mr. Fairfield read.
"And mayn't I ask Lady Kitty to come in? She'll sit still as a mouse, I
know."
"Certainly, my child; ask any one you like. If you see any people in the
corridors, bring them back with you. Perhaps the elevator man will come."
"'Deed he won't be asked," said Patty, indignantly. "I just want my
sweet, lovely Lady Kitty."
The sweet, lovely lady was pleased to come, and did indeed sit still as a
mouse, listening to Mr. Fairfield's fine reading.
Then Patty sang one or two of her newest songs, and then Nan declared
they must all go down to the Grill Room for a Welsh Rabbit.
This plan enchanted Patty, and after a moment's hesitation, Lady Hamilton
agreed. So the evening proved a merry little festivity, and Patty went to
bed healthily tired, but healthily happy.
Bob Hartley did not forget his promise to ask Patty to the Garden Party
at Regent's Park, and Patty gladly accepted the invitation.
"The only thing that bothers me," she said to Nan, "is that the Hartleys
don't seem to have much money, and at a Charity Garden Party there are so
many ways to spend, that I fear I'll be a burden to them. It makes me
awfully uncomfortable, and yet I can't offer to pay for myself. And with
those young men present, I can't offer to pay for the whole party."
"No," agreed Nan. "But you might do something yourself. Invite them all
to be your guests at some especial side-show, or booth. There are often
such opportunities."
"I hope there will be. The Hartleys are a funny kind of poor. They have a
good apartment in London, and their country place is fine. They have old
servants, and keep a carriage, and all that, and yet they never seem to
have spending money."
"English people are often like that. The keeping up of an establishment
comes first with them, and little personal comforts afterward."
"That isn't my idea of economy," said Patty, decidedly; "I'd rather spend
all I want on flowers and books and pretty hats, and go without a butler
and a footman and even a team of horses."
"You can't judge, because you've always had whatever you want."
"Of course; because father is indulgent and has plenty of money. But if
he hadn't, I'd be just as happy, living in a plainer way."
"Yes, Patty, I believe you would," and Nan looked at the girl
affectionately. "Well, do your best to help the Hartleys financially this
afternoon without offending them."
"Ah, that's just the trouble. They're so dreadfully proud they won't
accept so much as a glass of lemonade from one who is their guest."
"Try it, and see. It may not be so difficult as you think."
So Patty went gaily off to the Garden Party. Mrs. Hartley called for her
in her carriage. Mabel was with her, and they were to meet the boys at
the park.
It was a beautiful drive, in the open victoria, along the busy streets of
the city, and then on out to the green slopes of Regent's Park.
The portion of the park devoted to the Garden Party was gay with booths
and flower-stands, tents and arbours, and catch-penny shows of all sorts.
Sinclair and Robert were awaiting them, and also another young
Englishman, whom Bob introduced as Mr. Lawton. The latter was a typical
Briton, with a slight drawl, and a queer-looking monocle in his right
eye.
"Awfully jolly to meet you," he exclaimed, as he shook Mrs. Hartley's
hand, and bowed formally to the girls.
He fascinated Patty, he was so exactly like the young Englishmen pictured
in _Punch_, and she waited to hear him say "Bah Jove!" But he didn't say
it, he contented himself with "My word!" by way of expletive, and though
it didn't seem to mean anything, it was apparently useful to him.
"You must jolly well let me be your guide," he declared; "Mrs. Hartley
and I will lead and the rest of you will follow wherever we go. First, we
make the grand tour."
This meant joining a long procession that were sauntering along a board
walk, on either side of which were settees filled with people.
Patty, with Sinclair, followed the leaders, and Mabel and Bob followed
them.
But their progress was slow, for continually some of the party recognised
friends seated alongside, and stopped to speak to them. Patty was
introduced so often that she became bewildered, and soon stopped trying
to remember who was who.
"You're getting jolly well fagged," said Mr. Lawton, suddenly noticing
her expression. "Now, we'll stop this merry-go-round and adjourn to the
tea tent."
This they did, and were soon comfortably seated round a tea table.
"Great show, isn't it?" said Bob, enthusiastically. "And you haven't seen
half of it yet. There's fortune-telling, and Punch and Judy, and the
hat-trimming contest, and I don't know what beside."
Sinclair adroitly paid the tea bill, before Mr. Lawton could do so,
though the latter tried.
"Never mind, old fellow," he cried, "I'll get even with you! I hereby
invite you all to supper at six o'clock."
"We're pleased to accept," said Patty, promptly; "and I hereby invite you
all to the play, or whatever it is, given by the Stagefright Club. I
think that's such a lovely name for a dramatic club. Can't we go at
once?"
Mrs. Hartley looked a little disturbed at Patty's invitation, but did not
demur, and tea being over, they all went toward the tent where the play
was to be given. Patty managed to walk ahead with Mr. Lawton, this time,
and when they reached the big tent, she offered him her little gold
chain-purse, saying, quietly, "Won't you see to the tickets, please?"
"Trust me," said Mr. Lawton, and taking Patty's purse, he bought seats
for them all. It was gracefully done, and they all went in in gay spirits
and without a trace of embarrassment, thanks to Patty's tact.
The play was very funny. Though only a trifling farce, it was written by
professionals, for the benefit of the charity, and was played by the
clever amateurs who had chosen such an odd name for their club. The
situations in the play were screamingly funny, and Patty shook with
laughter as she listened to the jokes and the merry by-play.
"Hist, she comes!" declared a weird figure in a sepulchral voice, as he
waited in the middle of the stage.
"Hist, she comes!"
But nobody came.
"That's her cue," he muttered; "what can be the matter? I say," he
cleared his throat and spoke louder: "Hist, she comes!" As the expected
entrance was still delayed, he only said: "Well, she ought to be hissed
when she does come!" And calmly sat down to wait for her, amid the
applause of the audience.
The short playlet soon came to an end, and still shaking with laughter,
the party went out again into the beautiful atmosphere which is found on
a spring day in Regent's Park.
"Now, my children," said Mrs. Hartley, "I simply cannot walk about any
more. I'm going to sit in one of those chairs yonder, for I see some
people I know over there. You can amuse yourselves with Punch and Judy,
or Ring Toss or whatever you like, and come back to me in an hour or so.
Sinclair, look after the little ones, won't you?"
It was a great joke that Sinclair, the oldest Hartley boy, should look
after the others. He had reached the age of twenty, and was much more
grave and dignified than Bob and Grace. Mrs. Hartley often declared she
could even trust him to match samples for her, so careful was he. So the
young people wandered away and spent a delightful hour looking at the
beautiful or grotesque sights that adorned the fair.
Patty could not do much financially, but under cover of giving to
charity, she bought pretty souvenirs for Mabel and Mrs. Hartley, and
laughingly invited the group to be photographed by a Camera Fiend.
This personage was clothed in red, and with black horns and Mephistophelean
countenance was made to look as much like a fiend as possible. With
outlandish hoots and yells, he posed the group and took several snapshots,
which they were to call for later.
As they concluded it was nearly time to drift back to Mrs. Hartley, Patty
noticed a gentleman who stood at a little distance, looking at her
intently.
"Who's your friend, Patty?" asked Mabel. "Do you know him?"
"Yes," said Patty, slowly. "He's Sir Otho Markleham."
"So he is," said Bob. "I've seen him often, but I don't know him
personally."
Sir Otho, still looking at Patty, took a few steps toward her, and then
paused irresolutely.
"Please excuse me," said Patty to the others, "I think I'll go speak to
him for a minute."
"Do," said Mr. Lawton; "we'll wait for you right here."
Following an impulse, Patty walked directly toward Sir Otho, who looked
as if he would like to run away.
"How do you do?" she said, pleasantly, as they met.
"Quite well," he said, but there was no responsiveness in his manner. "Do
you wish to speak to me?"
Now after he had first advanced toward Patty, this was a strange
question, but she bravely took up the burden of conversation.
"Well, yes," she said, smiling at him prettily; "I want to ask you how
you are enjoying the Garden Party."
"I never enjoy anything," he returned, but his face was sad now, rather
than angry.
"Oh, what a pity!" said Patty, involuntarily, "and you have such powers
of enjoyment, too."
"How do you know that, Miss Yankee Doodle?"
Patty didn't altogether like the name, or rather the tone in which it was
said, but she was determined not to get piqued. So she said:
"Oh, because you're such a big, healthy, hearty-looking man; you ought to
laugh most of the time."
"Ought I, indeed? But you see I never have anything to laugh at."
At this Patty laughed outright.
"Why, the world is full of things to laugh at,--and you're not blind."
"No, but I don't feel like laughing."
"Don't you ever even feel like smiling?"
"Not often."
"Didn't you feel like smiling just a little bit of a happy smile, when I
gave you those flowers the other day? Those flowers--from Kitty."
Sir Otho's face grew dark.
"How dare you mention her name to me?" he cried. "You are a saucy minx!
Go away!"
"I won't be sent away like that," declared Patty, looking haughty now.
"I'm no child to be scolded for nothing. How dare you speak to me like
that? What do you think I am?"
Sir Otho turned red with rage. He choked and stammered and looked like a
choleric old gentleman, as indeed he was.
"I think you're an impertinent Yankee. What do you think I am?"
Patty looked him squarely in the eye. Her chance had come, and she did
not flinch.
"I think," she said, looking steadfastly at him, "I think you're an
obstinate, stubborn, selfish, cruel old--Pighead!"
She confessed, afterward, that at that moment she fully expected the
irate old man to strike her. But he did not. Instead, he looked at her
just a moment in amazement, and then burst into peals of laughter.
Surprised beyond measure, but unable to resist the infectious merriment,
Patty laughed too.
"Oh, Miss Yankee Doodle," said Sir Otho, wiping his eyes, "you are most
astonishing. The strange part is, you are quite right. I _am_ a stubborn
old Pighead, but how did you know it? Do I wear my heart on my sleeve to
that extent?"
"Have you a heart?" asked Patty, so gravely that Sir Otho again roared
with laughter.
"And yet," said Patty, thoughtfully, seeing that frankness pleased the
old man, "and yet, no one with such a sense of humour as you seem to have
can be wholly bad."
"Oh, thank you! So I'm not wholly bad? Well, that's a comfort; I always
thought I was. But your friends are looking this way. I think they want
you to rejoin them."
"In a moment," said Patty. "Sir Otho,--won't you--please--send a flower
back to my friend, Lady Hamilton?"
"I would do much for any friend of yours," said the strange old man, very
gravely, and taking a few steps to a nearby flower stand, he bought a
bunch of sweet peas, and said, carelessly, "Give her those, if you like."
Then formally escorting Patty back to her friends, he raised his hat, and
walked quickly away.