AN IMPORTANT DOCUMENT
It was the custom at Herenden Hall to serve morning tea to the guests in
their rooms.
When Patty's tray was brought, she asked to have it taken into Lady
Hamilton's room, and the two friends chatted cosily over their toast and
teacups.
Lady Kitty, with a dainty dressing-jacket round her shoulders, was still
nestled among her pillows, while Patty, in a blue kimono, curled up,
Turk-fashion on the foot of the bed.
"It's a gorgeous day," observed Patty, stirring her tea, which she was
trying to sip, though she hated it. "I'll be glad to explore that lovely
rose garden without horrid old moonlit Earls."
"It's a wonderfully fine place, Patty; you really must go over the
estate. I'll show you round myself."
"Thank you," said Patty, airily, "but I believe I have an engagement. Mr.
Snowden, or Snowed on, or Snowed under, or whatever his name is, kindly
offered to do that same."
"Yes, and he'll kindly withdraw his offer when he sees you in your own
rightful raiment. I've a notion to put you in a pinafore, and give you a
Teddy Bear to carry. There's no keeping you down any other way."
"Oh, don't be alarmed. I've no designs on the young men. I like the boys
better, anyhow. That Jack Merivale is a chummy kind of a youth. That's
the sort I like. Rest assured I won't trouble that wretched Earl. I won't
even speak to him, and I'll make over to you whatever interest he may
deign to show in me."
"As one Humpty Dumpty said, 'I'd rather see that on paper.'"
"So you shall," said Patty, and setting down her unfinished tea, she flew
to the writing table.
Perching herself on the corner of the desk chair, she laid out a sheet of
Lady Herenden's crested note paper, and took up a pen. "Shall I write the
agreement as I please?" she said, "or will you dictate it?"
"I'll dictate," said Lady Kitty, smiling lazily at the foolery. But as
she paused between sentences, Patty put in parentheses of her own, and
when finished the remarkable document read thus:
"I, the undersigned, being of (fairly) sound mind, do hereby of my
own free will (coerced by one Lady Hamilton) relinquish all interest
or concern in the (illustrious) personage known as Sylvester, Earl
of Ruthven (but I do think he has a lovely name), and should he show
any interest in me, personally, I promise (gladly) to refer him to
(the aforesaid) Lady Hamilton (though what she wants of him, I don't
know!), and I hereby solemnly promise and agree, not to seek or
accept any further acquaintance or friendship with the (Belted)
gentleman above referred to.
"Furthermore, I (being still of sound mind, but it's tottering)
promise not to talk or converse with the (Sylvester! _Sylvester!_)
Earl of Ruthven, beyond the ordinary civilities of the day (whatever
that may mean!), never to smile at him voluntarily (I can't help
laughing at him), and _never_ to wave my eyelashes at him across the
table. (_Why_ does she think I'd do that?)
"Witness my hand and seal,
"PATRICIA FAIRFIELD."
("Lady Patricia would sound great! Wouldn't it?")
"There, Kitty Cat," said Patty, tossing the paper to Lady Hamilton,
"there's your agreement, and now, my dreams of glory over, I'll go and
'bind my hair and lace my bodice blue.' I always wondered how people bind
their hair. Do you suppose they use skirt braid?"
But Lady Kitty was shaking with laughter over Patty's foolish "document"
and offered no reply.
An hour or so later, Patty presented herself for inspection.
She wore a pale blue dimity, whose round, full blouse was belted with a
soft ribbon. The skirt, with its three frills edged with tiny lace, came
just to her instep, and disclosed dainty, patent-leather oxfords.
Her golden braids, crossed and recrossed low at the back of her head,
were almost covered by a big butterfly bow of wide white ribbon. In fact,
she was perfectly garbed for an American girl of eighteen, and the
costume was more becoming to her pretty, young face than the trained gown
of the night before.
Lady Hamilton was still at her dressing table.
"I feel quite at ease about you now," she said, looking up. "Nobody will
propose to you in that rig. They'll be more likely to buy you a doll. I'm
not nearly ready yet, but don't wait. Run along downstairs, you'll find
plenty of people about."
Slowly Patty descended the great staircase, looking at the pictures and
hanging rugs as she passed them.
"For mercy's sake, who is that?" was Lady Herenden's mental exclamation
as the girl neared the lower floor.
"Good-morning, Lady Herenden," cried Patty, gaily, as she approached her
hostess. "Don't look so surprised to see me, and I'll tell you all about
it."
"Why, it's Miss Fairfield!" exclaimed the elder lady, making room for
Patty on the sofa beside her.
"Yes, and I really owe you an explanation. You see, my boxes didn't come
last night, and I had to wear one of Lady Hamilton's gowns at dinner. I
couldn't tell you so, before all the guests, and so you didn't know me
this morning in my own frock."
"It's astonishing what a difference it makes! You look years younger."
"I am. I'm not quite eighteen yet, and I wish you'd call me Patty, won't
you?"
"I will, indeed," said Lady Herenden, answering the pretty smile that
accompanied the request. "I knew Kitty Hamilton said you weren't out yet,
and so, when I saw you last night, I just couldn't understand it. But I
do now. Have you breakfasted, dearie?"
"Yes, thank you. And now, I want to go out and see the flowers, and the
dogs. May I?"
"Yes, indeed. Run around as you like. You'll find people on the terrace
and lawn, though there are no girls here as young as yourself."
"That doesn't matter. I like people of all ages. I've friends from four
to forty."
"I'm not surprised. You're a friendly little thing. Be sure to go through
the rose orchard; it's back of the rose garden, and you'll love it."
Hatless, Patty ran out into the sunshine, and, strolling through the rose
garden, soon forgot all else in her delight at the marvellous array of
blossoms.
As she turned a corner of a path, she came upon two men talking together.
They were Lord Ruthven and Lord Herenden's head gardener.
"Yes," his lordship was saying, "you've done a good thing, Parker, in
getting that hybrid. And this next bush is a fine one, too. Is it a
Baroness Rothschild?"
"No," said Patty, carelessly joining in the conversation, "it's a
Catherine Mermet."
"So it is, Miss," said the gardener, turning politely toward her, but
Lord Ruthven, after a slight glance, paid no attention to the girl.
"Are you sure, Parker?" he said. "The Mermets are usually pinker."
"He doesn't know me! What larks!" thought Patty, gleefully. "I'll try
again."
"Where is the rose orchard, Parker?" she asked, turning her full face
toward the gardener, and leaving only the big white bow to greet the
Earl.
Something in her voice startled Lord Ruthven, and he wheeled quickly
about. "It is--it can't be--Miss Fairfield?"
"Good-morning, my lord," said Patty, with cool politeness. "This, of
course," she thought to herself, "is the civility of the day."
"I will show you the rose orchard," went on the Earl. "Come with me."
"No, thank you," said Patty, turning again to the gardener. She was
absurdly placed, and she felt a little embarrassed. But, on the other
hand, she had pledged her word, and a silly performance it was! But she
would keep it, at least until Lady Hamilton released her from her
promise. Patty's ideas of honour were, perhaps, a little strained, but
she took the promise of that burlesque document as seriously as if it had
been of national importance. And now she was in a dilemma. To refuse to
walk with the Earl was so rude, and yet to talk with him was to break her
pledged word.
The gardener went on about his work, and the other two stood silent. For
the first time in her life, Patty had a really difficult situation to
cope with. If she could have laughed and talked naturally, it would have
been easy to explain matters. But that absurd paper sealed her lips. Oh,
why had she been so foolish?
She did not look at the Earl, but he gazed fixedly at her.
"I don't understand," he said. "Why are you so changed from last
evening?"
Patty thought hard. She was allowed the "civilities of the day," so she
must depend on those.
"Isn't it a charming morning?" she said, without, however, turning toward
the man at her side.
"It is indeed. But why are you such an enigma? Are all Americans so
puzzling?"
"And isn't the rose garden wonderful?" went on Patty, still looking off
in the distance.
"Wonderful, of course. Please look at me. I believe, after all, you're
Miss Fairfield's younger sister! Ah, I have guessed you at last!"
Patty still looked straight ahead, but an irrepressible smile dimpled the
corners of her mouth.
"Do you think it will rain?" she said.
"By Jove, I won't stand this!" cried the Earl, impetuously. "I know you
are yourself--the Miss Fairfield I talked with last night--but why you're
masquerading as a schoolgirl, I don't know!"
At this Patty could restrain her mirth no longer, and her pretty laughter
seemed to appease the Earl's irritation.
"Am I not fit to be looked at, or spoken to?" he said, more gently; "and
if not, you must at least tell me why."
"I can't tell you why," said Patty, stifling her laughter, but still
gazing at the far-away hills.
"Why can't you? Have you promised not to?" The Earl meant this as a jest,
little thinking it was the truth, but Patty, now nearly choking with
merriment, said demurely, "Yes, sir."
"Nonsense! I'm not going to eat you! Look at me, child."
"I can't," repeated Patty, in a small voice, and holding her wilful,
golden head very straight, as she stared firmly ahead.
"Whom did you promise?"
"You have no right to ask."--"That," said Patty to herself, "is an
ordinary _incivility_, but I can't help it!"
"I have a right to ask! And I don't care whether I have or not. You're a
mischief, and I won't stand any more of your chaff. Who made you promise
not to speak to me, or look at me?"
The Earl, quietly, but with a decided air, moved around until he faced
Patty, and the laughing blue eyes were so full of fun that he laughed
too.
"You ridiculous baby!" he cried; "what are you, anyway? One night, a
charming young woman, the next day, a naughty child."
"I'm _not_ naughty! Nobody made me promise. I did it of my own free
will."
"But whom did you promise?"
"Lady Hamilton," said Patty, remembering all at once that the matter was
to be referred to her.
"Oho! Well, now, see here. You just break that promise, as quick as you
can, and I'll make it square with Lady Hamilton."
"Will you?" said Patty, drawing a long sigh of relief. "And will you blot
out last evening, and pretend it never was, and begin our acquaintance
from now?"
"I will," said the Earl, looking at her, curiously, "if you will tell me
why you seem to have a dual personality."
Then Patty explained her appearance at dinner in Lady Hamilton's gown,
and to her pleased surprise, the Earl laughed long and loudly.
"Best joke ever!" he declared; "a baby like you giving an imitation of
the 'belle of the ball'!"
"I'm not so infantile," said Patty, pouting a little, for the Earl now
treated her as if she were about twelve.
"You are!" he declared. "You ought to be in the schoolroom eating bread
and jam."
"I'd like the bread and jam well enough, for I'm getting hungrier every
minute."
"Well, it's an hour yet to luncheon time; come along and I'll show you
the rose orchard. It may make you forget your gnawing pangs of hunger."
On pleasant terms, then, they went through the gate in the high hedge
that surrounded the enclosure. The rose orchard was unique. It had
originally been a fruit orchard, and as most of the trees were dead, and
many of them fallen, roses had been trained over their trunks and
branches. The gorgeous masses of bloom covered the old gnarled wood, and
the climbing roses twined lovingly around branches and boughs. Here and
there were rustic seats and arbours; and there were many bird-houses,
whose tiny occupants were exceedingly tame and sociable. Several other
guests were walking about, and Patty and the Earl joined a group which
included their host and hostess.
"How do you like it?" said Lady Herenden, drawing Patty's arm through her
own.
"It's the most beautiful place since the Garden of Eden," said Patty, so
enthusiastically that everybody laughed.
Then Mr. Snowden sauntered up, and reminded Patty of her promise to go
walking with him.
"You haven't seen the deer park yet," he said, "nor the carp pond; though
I believe the carp are merely tradition. Still, the pond is there."
"Run along, child!" said Lady Herenden. "You'll just about have time for
a pleasant stroll before luncheon."
Patty was greatly relieved when Mr. Snowden made no reference to her age
or her costume. He treated her politely and chatted gaily as he led her
around to see all the picturesque bits of woodland and meadow. The
magnificent old place showed its age, for it had not been unduly
renovated, though everything was in good order.
They went into the old church, which was on the estate, they visited the
farmhouses and stables, and Patty found Mr. Snowden a kind and
entertaining guide.