THE COURTESY OF THE ROAD
That evening they discussed the project with Mr. Fairfield.
“I heartily approve of the plan,” he said. “It’s time we had some young
life down here to stir Patty up. She’s getting too sentimental from
gazing at the sea and sky. And I think it will be quite all right to
invite two of the men to lodge at the hotel. They can come over here for
all their meals, and so they will practically be part of the house
party. But, Patty, are you sure you want this house party for several
days? You may find it more of a burden than you think, to entertain
guests so long.”
“Oh, they’re not formal guests; it’s just a young people’s frolic. We’ll
go motoring and swimming and picnicking just as we like. But, of course,
on my birthday I shall have a party,—a real party.”
“You don’t know enough people down here to make an evening party,” said
Nan.
“Oh, well, I know several,” said Patty; “and if we have eight or ten in
the house, and get eight or ten more from among the Spring Beach
cottagers, that will be enough for a small dance.”
“And there’s Mona,” put in her father, mischievously.
“Oh, _Mona_! I’m not going to ask _her_!”
“Why, Patty,” said Nan, “you’ll have to ask her,—your very next
neighbour!”
“No, I won’t have to, either! I’m not going to spoil my whole birthday
just because she happens to live next-door to me!”
“Patty,” said her father, “I think you must be a little more generous in
your attitude toward that girl. You may not like her altogether, but you
must be kind and polite to her, because, in a country place like this,
we do owe a certain duty to our neighbours such as is never recognised
in New York. And I want you to grow up an unselfish, generous woman, who
would sacrifice her own feelings to those of her neighbour.”
“Of course you’re right, father, and I will try to conquer my dislike
for that girl. But you know what she is.”
“Yes, I know what she is; she is uncongenial, and her manner irritates
you. But there must be some good in her, Patty, and suppose you set
yourself to work to find it.”
“All right, daddy, I’ll go you; but won’t you please let me wait until
after my birthday is over?”
“No, child; I quite agree with Nan that you must invite Miss Mona to
your party: that is, if you invite other cottagers. If you have only
your own house party, of course you needn’t ask her.”
“Well, then, I won’t ever ask her over here while the house party is on,
except the night of my birthday, when I have the dance.”
“It may not be necessary to invite her,” said Nan, smiling; “she’ll very
likely invite herself.”
“Well, we’ll hope she won’t,” said Patty, with a little sigh. “Now I’ll
write to the others to-night, and I hope they can all come. I think they
all will, unless maybe Christine will think she cannot leave her work.
But I’ll urge her to come for a few days, anyway.”
Patty went off to the library to write her notes, and so interested did
she become in her party, and her plans for her birthday celebration,
that she quite forgot her unpleasant and unwelcome neighbour. Nor did
she think of her again until the next afternoon, when, as she swung in a
hammock on the front veranda, she saw Mona Galbraith come walking up the
drive.
“Here you are, Patty,” called out the hearty and irrepressible voice of
her neighbour; “I hoped I’d find you at home. I felt sort of lonely, and
I said to myself I’ll just run over to Patty’s, and perhaps, if I ask
her very prettily, she’ll give me a ride in that little gem of a motor
car that she runs so well.”
Patty arose from the hammock, politely hiding her annoyance at Mona’s
arrival, and said: “How do you do, Miss Galbraith? Sit down, won’t you?
I’m not sure that I’m going to have the car out this afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s all right; never mind. Don’t get it out purposely for me.
I’ll sit here and chat this afternoon, and we can take the ride
to-morrow.”
So Patty saw at once that she must either take her visitor motoring that
afternoon, or merely defer the occasion, in which case she would have
her on her hands for the rest of the afternoon, anyway. Of the two evils
she concluded to choose the less. And she also concluded that, as her
father had requested, she would be pleasant to this girl, and try to
find some likable qualities in her.
So it was with a shade more cordiality that she said: “Oh, yes, we can
just as well go this afternoon as any other! It’s a good day, except
that there’s a pretty stiff breeze blowing. Are you dressed to go?”
“Oh, yes, this gown is all right, and you can lend me a hood and cloak
or something. Haven’t you extra ones?”
“Yes, of course,” said Patty, wondering if this girl had no idea of
social formalities. “But perhaps she never had anybody to teach her
things,” thought Patty, who, now that she was trying to be
generous-minded toward Mona, found it easier than she had thought.
Patty rang for Miller, and ordered the car; then she asked Mona to come
into the house, that she might fit her out with proper wraps. It was a
warm, pleasant day, so a dust cloak of Nan’s, and a silk hood belonging
to that same amiable lady, were borrowed for Miss Galbraith’s use.
“Of course I have all these things at home,” she said, as she tied the
ribbons under her chin; and Patty wanted to say, “Why don’t you go and
get them, then?” but she well knew it was because of Mona’s unwarranted
feeling of intimacy in the Fairfield household that she borrowed their
wraps instead of going for her own.
This whole principle was foreign to Patty’s nature. Systematic and
methodical herself, she always used her own belongings, and never would
have dreamed of borrowing those of another, unless through sheer
necessity.
“There’s one thing,” she thought to herself, “if I give her this ride
and get it over with, she may keep away while those other people are
here. I must be careful not to let her know they are coming.”
The car was at the door and they were soon started. Patty determined to
be kind and pleasant to her guest, but to avoid personalities, and to
say nothing which could be construed as an invitation to further
acquaintance.
One point she conceded, however, and concluded to call Miss Galbraith by
her first name. This she did, only because Mona persisted in calling her
Patty, and it sounded so purposely stilted and ungracious to persist in
saying Miss Galbraith.
Patty asked her guest to choose the road they should take, and was
surprised to find that Mona knew of a great many lovely drives which
Patty had not yet discovered. Though, of course, it was not surprising,
as Mona had spent four summers at Spring Beach, and it was Patty’s first
one.
Mona chose a route called the Blue Lake Drive, which took them through a
lovely stretch of pine woods, and out into an orchard-dotted country,
the goal being a small and very blue lake. On the shore was a tiny Tea
House, which proved a pleasant resting-place for a half-hour.
The girls sat sipping tea and eating crumpets, and Patty began to think
that Mona was not nearly as unlikable as she had thought. Her
shortcomings were more those of an impulsive and untrained nature than
any more serious faults. She was well educated and well read, and Patty
found that they had many favourite books and authors in common. But she
was pushing, and she continually asserted her intention of being Patty’s
intimate friend, until Patty lost her patience and broke out, rather
sharply.
“Look here, Mona,” she said, “I like you, or at least I think I’m going
to like you, but I won’t be pushed or pulled into a friendship so
suddenly. You don’t know me at all, but once in a while I have a way of
speaking my mind right straight out, and I tell you frankly that, if you
want to be friends with me, you’ll upset the whole kettle of fish by
rushing it too hard!”
Mona looked utterly amazed. “What are you talking about?” she said. “Do
you call me pushing?”
“I do that!” declared Patty; “just exactly that! and you know it as well
as I do! I shouldn’t talk to anybody like this on such short
acquaintance, but you brought it on yourself, and, if you want to get
angry, you may!”
“Angry!” echoed Mona. “Why, I like you all the better for such
straightforward talk! I’m sorry I seem pushing, but,—well,—‘you
brought it on yourself’!”
Patty had to laugh at this, for it was really a subtle compliment to her
own attractiveness. Also, she decided she could do little by scolding
Mona. So she began to talk of other things, leaving the question of
friendship to be settled some other time.
Soon they started homeward again, for, as Patty explained to her guest,
she was under promise to get home before dark.
“How beautifully your car runs,” said Mona, as they skimmed smoothly
along. “Do you never have an accident?”
“Nothing of any account,” returned Patty, and then she told Mona of the
day when her wheels got stuck in the sand. “But I have never had
anything more serious than that,” she went on, “and I hope I never
shall. Have you never run a car yourself?”
“No, it never occurred to me to do so. We have several cars, of course,
and lots of chauffeurs and grooms, but only since I’ve seen you in your
car have I thought of driving one myself. But I’m going to; I’ve already
asked father to get me one exactly like this.”
“Will he do it?”
“Of course; he gets me anything I want. And when I get it, Patty, we can
go out together in our two cars. Won’t that be fun?”
“H’m, h’m!” murmured Patty, who wasn’t overjoyed at the proposition.
“Gracious! what’s the matter?”
“Oh, my! what _is_ the matter? Did something burst?”
“It did so,” said Patty, cheerfully; “the inner tube of this front wheel
has burst, and now, if you want to see a successful imitation of a young
lady mending her own motor car, just watch me while I get out my little
kit of tools, and put my reserve tube in place of this burst one.”
“Can you do it yourself?” enquired Mona, with a look of surprised
admiration. “I didn’t know a girl could do things like that!”
“This girl can,” returned Patty, opening her tool-box with a capable
air. But the next moment her capable air completely vanished, and she
turned to Mona with a comical expression of dismay. “What do you think?”
she said. “I’m always so careful to have my car and my tools and my
accessories all in perfect order, and now see what’s happened! I had
this same experience the other day. The inner tube burst, and I put in
my reserve tube and then I put the burst tube away in my kit, and here
it is yet. I utterly forgot to have it replaced by a new one!”
“Oh, then the reserve tube that you want to put in is as burst as that
one you have just taken out!”
“You’ve struck it right! that’s the situation. Now what’s the solution?
There isn’t any answer!”
“Then, what do we do?” asked Mona, looking scared.
“Oh, we just sit here,” said Patty, returning to her seat in the
runabout. “It isn’t a question of doing anything, because we can’t do
anything. We can sit here, or we can walk home. Or, rather, you can walk
home, if you want to. I sha’n’t leave my car, if I sit here all night.”
“And I sha’n’t leave you, if we sit here all night! But if I can walk
anywhere, and get assistance for you, I’ll gladly do so.”
“Mona, you’re a good deal of a trump,” said Patty, looking into the
girl’s earnest face; “but I don’t know of any place you could get
assistance nearer than home, and that’s ten miles away. You see, Mona,
when motor cars do break down, they invariably choose a place far away
from any garage or repair shop. The farther away it is, the better the
car likes it. Can’t you hear Camilla chuckling at our discomfiture?”
“How can you joke, Patty? I think it’s awful! What can we do?”
“We can’t do anything, but, if we’re patient, some one may come along
who can help us. You know, there’s a certain courtesy of the road among
motorists that makes them help each other whenever they can. At least,
this courtesy is said to exist, but I’ve never seen much of it, myself.
However, I’ve had very few occasions to desire it. Now we’ll sit and
wait for courtesy.”
Nor did they wait long. Very soon a good-sized motor came by, and the
polite driver of it stopped and asked the girls if he could be of any
assistance.
Patty liked his quiet, courteous manner, and she explained her
difficulty.
But the man, though willing, was unable to help her, for his tires were
not the same size as those on Patty’s ear. He would have been glad, he
said, to tow her car, but he was going in the other direction. So Patty
thanked him for his interest in the matter, and he went on his way.
“Now, you see,” observed Patty, “that there _is_ a courtesy of the road.
I’ve no doubt some more courtesy will come along soon, and we’ll get
fixed up somehow.”
But courtesy seemed to be scant that afternoon, for half a dozen cars,
both large and small, whizzed past them apparently without noticing
their plight.
At last, however, a man came by alone in a small electric runabout, not
unlike Patty’s own.
“Hi! there!” he called out, “you in trouble?”
Patty did not like his mode of address, nor did she like the looks of
the man himself. And even though she greatly desired his help, and felt
sure that he might have a reserve inner tube which would fit her tire,
she hesitated to ask him for it, as she so distrusted and disliked his
general appearance. He looked good-natured, but he did not look to be a
man of refinement. But while she hesitated, Mona, greatly to Patty’s
surprise, took the situation in hand, and called back to the man: “Yes,
we’re in a dreadful fix! Can’t you help us out?”
“You bet I can!” cried the man, and, springing from his own car, he came
over to Patty’s side.
“What’s wrong, little one?” he said, looking boldly into Patty’s face.
Patty was thoroughly annoyed at his manner, but now that things had gone
so far, of course she must carry it through. Sitting up very straight,
and assuming an air of severe dignity, she said: “The inner tube of a
front wheel has burst, and I have no good one with which to replace it.
If you have one you could spare, I should be glad to have it, and I will
send you a duplicate one, if you will give me your address, or my father
will send you a cheque for the price of it.”
The man looked at Patty and smiled. “You needn’t be so crusty about it,”
he said; “the other young miss ain’t so crusty.”
Patty was becoming a little frightened. The man was so easy-mannered,
and, though she felt sure she could manage all right by herself, she had
a fear that Mona might say something foolish at any moment.
“I don’t mean to be crusty,” said Patty, smiling pleasantly, but without
friendliness. “I’m simply asking the courtesy of the road from a
fellow-motorist, and I feel sure, if you can, you will give it to me.”
The man backed away a little and looked at Patty with unmistakable
admiration. “Well, I just guess I will!” he replied, and went straight
to his own tool-box for implements.
Patty took this opportunity to whisper to Mona, “Don’t you say another
word to him! You mustn’t speak to strangers so familiarly. You came near
making serious trouble for us!”
Now Mona was of such a peculiar disposition that, instead of realising
the truth of Patty’s words, she became incensed at the idea of being
scolded, and made no reply, save to pout her lips and assume a very
angry expression of countenance.
The man returned from his own car, and in a short time had inserted a
new inner tube, and Camilla was in perfect order for a fresh start.
“I thank you very much,” said Patty, with a calm, gracious politeness;
“and, if you’ll give me your card, or your address, my father will send
you a cheque for the tire, and a note of thanks for your kindness to his
daughter.”
“’Taint worth mentioning,” said the man, looking a little sheepish
before Patty’s courteous dignity; “and I haven’t a card, but here’s my
name, and I’ll be glad to hear from your father, miss.”
He scribbled on a bit of paper and gave the address to Patty, who put it
in her cardcase, and, bowing civilly to the man, she started her car and
drove swiftly away.