SUMMER PLANS
"As usual," said Mr. Fairfield, smiling, "the question is, what is to be
done with Patty?"
"Yes," agreed Patty, complacently, "you and Nan are usually trying to
dispose of me in some way. It's lucky I'm good-natured and don't mind
being left behind."
"That's a pretty speech!" exclaimed Nan, "after we've begged and coaxed
you to go with us!"
"So you have, my pretty little Stepmother--so you have; and I'm just
ungrateful enough not to want to go."
It was about a week after the birthday party, and the Fairfields were
making their plans for the summer. The elders wanted to travel in
Switzerland and Germany. Patty did not want to go with them, but her
dilemma was, which of several delightful invitations to accept.
"You see," she went on, "I'm invited to spend June in five separate
places, each one lovelier than the other. Now I can't chop myself up into
five pieces."
"You can chop June up into five pieces," suggested Nan.
"Yes, but if I go to a country house to make a good long visit, I want to
stay about a month. A week here and then a week there is so unsatisfactory.
However, after much thoughtful brooding over the question, I've cut out
three, and that brings my quandary down to only two places to decide
between."
"Lady Hamilton's being one," observed her father.
"Yes, Kitty's is one; and Mabel Hartley's is the other. Of course, if I
spend June with Kitty, we'll be right here in London all the time, and
though I love it, yet I love the country too. Now, if I go to Mabel's,
I'll have a beautiful experience of real English country life."
"You would enjoy it, I'm sure," said Nan; "and I think you'd better
decide to go to Cromarty Manor, and then, if for any reason, you don't
like it, come back, and put in the rest of your time with Lady Kitty."
"Nan, that's an inspiration!" cried Patty, running across the room, and
clasping Nan in one of her rather strenuous embraces.
"Look out! You'll break her!" cried Mr. Fairfield, in great pretence of
fear.
"No, indeed!" said Patty, "she's too substantial. And anyway, such a
clever suggestion deserves ample recognition."
Patty sat on the arm of Nan's chair, and amused herself by twisting Nan's
curly hair into tight little spirals.
"Stop that, Patty," said her father; "you make Nan look like a
pickaninny."
"No matter what she looks like, if it's becoming," said Patty, serenely.
"But truly, Nan, you ought to wear your hair like that; it's awfully
effective!"
The spirals now stood out all round Nan's face, like a spiky frame, but
the good-natured victim only laughed, as she said, "Never mind me, let's
get these great questions settled."
So, after some more talk and discussion, it was settled that Patty should
accept the Hartleys' urgent invitation to Cromarty Manor, for, at least,
a part of June, and then, if she cared to, stay also a time with Lady
Hamilton.
"It may sound silly," said Patty, thoughtfully, "but I can't help feeling
that Mabel not only wants me to visit her this summer, but she needs me.
Now, I don't mean to be conceited, but, don't you know, you can tell when
people seem to need you, if only in a trivial way."
"I understand," said Nan, quickly; "and you're not conceited a bit,
Patty. Mabel does need you. She is a sweet girl, but sometimes she seems
to me the least bit morbid; no, not quite that, but verging that way. She
adores you, and I'm perfectly sure that your companionship will do her a
world of good."
"I hope so," said Patty; "I love Mabel, but there is something about her
I can't quite understand."
"You'll probably find out what it is, when you're staying with her," said
her father, "and I know, Patty, you'll do all in your power to brighten
her up. The Merediths live near them, don't they?"
"Yes; only a mile or two away. And the Merediths are gay enough for
anybody. If they're at home this summer, there'll be plenty of fun going
on, I'm sure."
"Lady Hamilton will miss you a lot," said Nan; "what does she say to your
going?"
"Oh, she says she'll miss me," said Patty, "and so she will, some, but
it's not like it was when she was here, alone. Now that she's settled in
her father's house again, she has so much to occupy her time and
attention she's never lonely. Of course, she's just as fond of me, and I
am of her, but since she's gone away from here, I don't see so much of
her. And, truly, she doesn't need me, and Mabel does. So I'll go to
Mabel's first, and I shouldn't be surprised if I stay there until you
people come back from your trip. Mrs. Hartley asked me for the whole
summer, you know, but you won't be gone more than a month or six weeks,
will you?"
"Not more than two months," answered her father, "and you know,
chickabiddy, if ever you want to join us, I'll send for you, or come for
you myself, whenever you say the word. Just telegraph me, and I'll
respond at once."
"All right; I will if I want to. But there's too much fun for me in
civilization to want to go wandering off to the ends of the earth."
"And you may decide to go to Herenden Hall for a time."
"Yes, I may. I'd love to visit Lady Herenden again, if I thought that
Earl gentleman wouldn't be there."
"He probably won't be," said Nan. "I daresay you scared him away from
there forever."
"Even so, I didn't scare him as much as he scared me," returned Patty,
"but I do hope there won't be any Earls at Cromarty. I like plain, big
boys better."
"Those Hartley boys are fine fellows," observed Mr. Fairfield. "Young
Meredith has more fun and jollity, but the Hartleys are of a sterling
good sort. I like the whole family, and I'm glad, Patty girl, that you've
decided to go there. I'll willingly leave you in Mrs. Hartley's care, and
I'm sure you'll have a good time."
"Of course I shall, Daddy, and I'll write you every day, if you want me
to."
"Not quite so often, my dear. Twice a week, will be all you'll find time
for, I'm certain."
"Quite likely," said Patty, who was not very fond of writing letters.
Only a week later, Patty was to go away with the Hartleys. And a week was
not a very long time for her preparations. There was shopping to do, and
calling, and, as Nan and Mr. Fairfield were leaving at the same time,
they were to give up their hotel apartment for the present.
But Lady Hamilton insisted that Patty must look upon Sir Otho's big house
in Carlton Terrace as her own home. If she cared to run up to London for
a few days at any time, she would be more than welcome at Lady Kitty's.
Or she could leave there any trunks or other belongings that she wished.
This greatly pleased Mr. Fairfield, for he felt more comfortable at
leaving Patty, to know that she had a foothold in London, and somebody to
look after her, should she care to leave Cromarty before her parents'
return.
At last the day of departure came, and Mr. Fairfield accompanied Patty to
the station to meet the Hartleys for the journey.
It was with a homesick heart that Patty bade her father good-bye.
Somehow, she suddenly felt that she was leaving her own people to go away
with strangers. But she knew she must not be foolish, so she bravely kept
back the tears and said good-bye with a tender, if not a gay, smile.
"It is the loveliest thing," said Mabel, after they were settled in the
train, "to think that you're really going with us. I wanted you to, so
dreadfully, but I didn't urge it very much, for fear you wouldn't enjoy
yourself with us."
"I always enjoy myself," said Patty, "but I know I shall be happy with
you."
"We'll try to make you so, Miss Fairfield," said Bob, earnestly, and
Patty smiled at him, and said:
"Then the first thing you can do toward it, is to drop that formal name,
and call me Patty. I'm not really grown-up enough for the other."
"No, I don't think you are," said Bob, as he looked at her critically.
"So, as we're all to live under one roof for a time, we'll be first
namers all round."
"Good!" said Sinclair, "that suits me; and now, Mater, when you're ready,
we'll go in to luncheon."
Patty thought luncheon in the dining car was great fun. Only four could
sit at a table, but as Mrs. Hartley had a slight headache and did not
care to talk, she and Grandma Cromarty sat at another table, and left the
four young people to chatter by themselves.
Everything interested Patty, from the unusual things she found on the
menu to the strange sights she saw from the window.
This was her first trip in this direction, for they were travelling
toward Leicester, and the scenes were all new to her.
The boys were full of fun and nonsense, and Mabel was so gay and jolly
that Patty began to think she had imagined the girl was of a sad nature.
They all told funny stories, and made absurd jokes, and poked fun at each
other, and Patty concluded she was likely to have a very jolly summer
with the Hartleys. Back they went after luncheon to their funny parlour
car, which had double seats facing each other, with a small table
between.
"Just the place for a game," said Sinclair, as the four took their seats,
two on either side of the table.
"What sort of a game?" asked Patty.
"Oh, I don't know; I'll make one up." The boy took a bit of chalk from
his pocket, and marked off the table into various sections, with a circle
in each corner, and crosses here and there.
"Now," he explained, as he offered each player a coin, "this isn't money,
you know. They're merely counters, for the time being. But when the game
is over you must all give them back to me, because they'll be money again
then."
"But what do we do with them?" asked Patty, who was greatly interested in
any game.
"I'll show you. These places are homes, and these are wilderness. If
you're in the wilderness you may be captured, but if you're at home, you
can't be."
The game was really a mix-up of parcheesi, halma, and some others; to
which were added some original rules out of Sinclair's own head. Patty
and Bob were partners against the other two, and soon the quartette were
deeply absorbed in the game.
"You are the cleverest boy, to make this up!" cried Patty, as her side
won, and they prepared to begin over again.
"Oh, he often makes up games," said Mabel. "We all do, only Sinclair's
are always the best."
"Mine are very good, though," observed Bob, modestly.
"Good enough, yes," said Sinclair; "only usually they're so difficult
that nobody can win but yourself."
Bob made a profound bow at this compliment, and then the game went on. It
seemed impossible that they had been about five hours on the train, when
it was time to get out. They had reached Leicester, and from there were
to drive to Cromarty Manor.
Two vehicles met them at the station.
Into one of these, a comfortable victoria, Sinclair assisted the four
ladies, and in the other, the boys rode up with the luggage. The drive
was beautiful, and Patty warmly expressed her gratitude to Mrs. Hartley,
for inviting her to this delightful experience of English country life.
"It is beautiful," said Mrs. Hartley, looking about her. "I'm always glad
to get back from London to the restful quiet of these great trees and the
far-away, peaceful hills."
Mabel's mood had changed. She no longer laughed and jested, and though
sweet and gentle as ever, the hint of sadness had again crept into her
face, and her speech was slow and quiet. Patty adapted her mood to the
other's, and it was almost in silence they drove along the country roads.
It was a long ride, and it was nearly dusk when at last they arrived at
Cromarty Manor.
An old servant came out from the Porter's Lodge to open the high iron
gates for them.
He gave them a warm greeting, which seemed a heart-felt welcome, and not
merely the speech of a paid dependant, and then they drove on toward the
house.
The whole effect was so beautiful that it almost took Patty's breath
away. It was not a bit like Herenden Hall, it was more like an old feudal
castle. The picturesque house was of gray stone, with towers and turrets
almost entirely covered with ivy. From the ivy the birds flew in and out,
and the darkness of the surrounding trees and tall shrubbery gave the
place a weird and fairly mysterious appearance.
"You feel the charm of it, don't you?" said Mrs. Hartley, kindly, as she
looked at Patty's rapt face and serious eyes.
"Yes, indeed," said Patty, softly; "I can't explain it, but it casts a
spell over me. Oh, I don't wonder you love it!"
But the darkness of the outer world was soon dispelled by a broad gleam
of light, as the great front doors were thrown open. An old, gray-haired
butler stood on the threshold, and greeted them with rather pompous
respect and punctilious deference. The interior was quite in keeping with
the outside view of the house. But though the old carved rafters and
wainscoting were dark and heavy, cheerful lamps were in abundance, and in
the halls and drawing-rooms, wax candles were lighted also.
At the first view on entering there seemed to be an interminable vista of
rooms, that opened one from another; this was partly the effect of the
elaborate old architecture, and partly because of many long mirrors in
various positions.
The furniture, tapestries and ornaments were all of an epoch two
centuries back, and the whole picture fascinated Patty beyond all words.
"It's a wonderful place," she said at last; "and after a week or two, I'm
going to examine it in detail. But at first I shall be satisfied just to
bask in its atmosphere."
"You'll do!" cried Bob, who had just arrived. "If you hadn't appreciated
Cromarty, we were going to pack you straight back to London; but you've
acquitted yourself nobly. Nobody could make a better speech than you did,
and I'll wager you didn't learn it beforehand either."
"I couldn't," said Patty, "because I didn't know what the place was like.
What few remarks you made about it seem like nothing, now that I've begun
to see it for myself."
"Yes, and you've only begun," said Sinclair. "To-morrow, when you get
further into the heart of it, you'll surrender to its charm as we all
do."
"I'm sure I shall," agreed Patty, "and, indeed, I think I have already
done so."