A MORNING SWIM
“Now,” said Nan, “we must lay our plans. We’re going to celebrate
Patty’s birthday, all day long; but there isn’t very much time in a day,
after all, so you must all choose what you think would be the most fun
to do. We’re going to the Country Club for luncheon, which is a motor
trip of about twenty miles. Then we’ll come back, and this evening there
will be a little dinner dance, which is, of course, the real birthday
party. Now you’ve about two hours before we start this morning. What do
you want to do?”
“I’m for a dip in the ocean,” declared Philip Van Reypen. “Does that hit
anybody else?”
“Me!” exclaimed Roger, and, “Me, too,” declared Elise.
“I’d love to bathe,” said Christine, “if it isn’t too cold. Is the water
chilly, now, Patty?”
“It is a little,” admitted Patty; “at least, it was day before
yesterday. I haven’t been in since. But to-day is a whole lot warmer. I
don’t believe it will be too cold, Christine.”
“Let’s all go in,” proposed Elise, “and then, if it is too chilly, we
can turn around and come right out again.”
This plan suited, and the girls ran away for their bathing suits.
Patty’s was white, trimmed with light blue, and was exceedingly
becoming. Her gold curls were tied up in a light-blue silk handkerchief,
from which a few ringlets persisted in escaping, though she kept tucking
them back.
“Let them hang down, Patty,” said Roger; “the salt water won’t take the
curl out!”
“No,” said Patty, laughing, “it makes it curl tighter than ever!”
“I envy you that,” said Christine. “I always wanted curly hair.”
“You needn’t,” said Patty. “Your soft, sleek bands are much better
suited to your face than my corkscrews would be.”
Mr. Hepworth laughed at this, for Patty’s curls when wet turned into
veritable corkscrews, which hung from her temples like those of an
old-fashioned belle.
Christine’s rather plain bathing suit was of navy blue, trimmed with
white braid, but Elise was gorgeous in a suit of scarlet and black, with
her hair tied up in a red bandanna.
Nan’s suit was entirely of black, and was both pretty and becoming; and,
as Mr. Van Reypen surveyed the group, he said: “Well, you _are_ a bunch
of naiads! You look like one of Sorolla’s pictures, except that we
haven’t any of his pumpkin-coloured light and purply-green shadows.”
“H’m!” commented Hepworth; “much you know about Sorolla’s work, if you
express it in those terms.”
“Well, you see I’m not an artist,” said Van Reypen, for Mr. Hepworth’s
tone was so good-natured he couldn’t feel annoyed.
“Who can swim?” Philip went on. “I’m for a long dash out to that
farthest buoy.”
“I can swim,” returned Patty, “but I won’t go as far out as that buoy.
I’ll swim part way.”
“Come on, then;” and the two splashed into the breakers. Patty was a
good swimmer, and there was not much surf that morning, so she had no
trouble in keeping up with Philip for a fairly good distance. Then she
said: “Now I’m going to turn back, Mr. Van Reypen. I’ve learned by
experience that it is better to turn back while we can.”
Van Reypen looked at her reproachfully as they swam slowly side by side.
“You called me Philip, last night,” he said.
“I know it;” and Patty smiled roguishly; “but, you see, that was under
stress of a great emergency. I scarcely realised what I was doing,—and
I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“I’ll forgive you only on condition that you never call me Mr. Van
Reypen again, and that you give me permission to call you Patty.”
“Aren’t you demanding a great deal?”
“Yes, I am, indeed; but you are so generous-minded that I have a hope of
your consent.”
“I’ll race you to shore for it,” said Patty. “If you win, first names
go; if I win, we shall continue with the more formal names.”
“All right; it’s an unfair advantage, but I’m going to take it. Of
course, I can beat you swimming to shore, but I’ll lag behind a little,
and let you think you’re winning, and then pass you with a grand
finish.”
“Oh, I don’t know!” said Patty, teasingly, and then they both headed
toward shore and swam rapidly.
As he had proposed, Philip kept a few lengths behind her, meanwhile
gasping and shouting that he was almost exhausted, and that he feared he
could never reach land.
Patty knew this was merely joking, and that soon, with a few strong
strokes, he would pass her and come in a long distance ahead. But she
had no intention of being beaten so easily. When nearly halfway to land,
she saw Kenneth swimming toward her. As they met, she said, “Turn round
and swim with me, Ken; quick!”
He did so, and Patty went on, talking rapidly: “I want you to do
something for me, Ken. Let me go on, and you turn and delay Mr. Van
Reypen. I don’t care what you do,—talk to him, duck him, or tease him
in any way,—but somehow or other keep him back until I reach shore, and
don’t let him know you’re doing it purposely.”
“All right, count on me;” and Kenneth turned, and circled leisurely
around, until he came face to face with Philip Van Reypen. “Hello!” he
said. “You’re a ripping good swimmer! I want to show you a new stunt I
learned lately. Mighty few could appreciate it, as I know you can.”
“Some other time, Harper,” hastily spoke Mr. Van Reypen. “I want to
speak to Miss Fairfield just now.”
“Oh, she won’t mind,” said Kenneth, taking care to keep directly in Van
Reypen’s way. “You see, you start sideways and then——”
“Oh, I say, Harper, wait till some other time! Let me pass, please. I’ll
be back in ten minutes, and glad to learn your new trick.”
“Well, you needn’t be stuffy about it!”
“Oh, I’m not stuffy, my boy, only——”
“Then I’ll show you now. You see, you swim on one side;” and, before Van
Reypen realised what was happening to him, Kenneth had grasped his arm
and gently but steadily pushed him around until he was headed out to sea
again.
At this moment Patty reached the beach, as Kenneth saw out of the corner
of his eye, and, suddenly changing his tone, he said: “By George! Van
Reypen, I believe you were in earnest! In that case, I’m sorry I
insisted. Of course, I’ll teach you the trick some other time! Go ahead,
if you want to speak to Miss Fairfield. She’s right over there.”
Thus disarmed, Philip couldn’t answer Kenneth angrily, and, suppressing
his chagrin, he said: “All right, old chap, and thank you. We’ll go for
a swim together, to-morrow morning, and then I’ll be glad to learn your
new stunt.”
Kenneth felt a little ashamed of his subterfuge, for he was of a frank,
honest nature. But he had done it for Patty, and he felt sure that the
whole thing was some merry jest.
Freed from his tormentor, Van Reypen struck out swiftly for the shore,
and the next moment, throwing himself on to a big breaker, he was washed
up on the beach at Patty’s side.
“How do you do, Mr. Van Reypen?” said that mischievous damsel, smiling
at him under her corkscrew curls.
“It wasn’t fair!” growled Philip; “I was delayed. Harper stopped me, and
I couldn’t get away from him!”
“Oh, that’s a pretty excuse,” chaffed Patty. “I heard you say that you
were almost exhausted and out of breath, and you _were_ puffing like a
whale!”
“Oh, that was mere foolery! I didn’t mean a word of it! I’m not a bit
blown. I could swim for miles!”
“That all sounds very well, but I think you’ll have to admit that I won
the race.”
“The race is not always to the swift,—but I admit gracefully that you
did reach the beach first, and I herewith relinquish all hope of ever
being allowed the privilege I had requested.”
“Oh, don’t give up too easily!” said Patty, though she well knew that
his speech was not made in earnest.
“Come along, Patty!” cried Nan. “Unless you want to go motoring in a wet
bathing suit, you must scamper into some dry clothes. Come along with
us, we’re all going now.”
The crowd of bathers dispersed, and, as there was need for expedition,
in less than a half an hour they reassembled, clad in civilian’s garb
and all ready for the picnic.
The girls’ light frocks were covered with voluminous motor-coats, and
they all wore pretty motor-hoods or bonnets of soft-coloured silks.
Three cars were necessary to accommodate the luncheon party, and it was
quite a gala procession that started from “The Pebbles.”
First was Mr. Fairfield’s own big car, driven by Miller, and containing
Mr. Fairfield and Nan, Christine and Mr. Hepworth.
This was followed by a runabout, which Mr. Fairfield had engaged for the
occasion, and which was driven by Roger.
This car held two in front, with a small rear seat for another. Philip
Van Reypen sat next to Roger, and Elise sat alone in the small back
seat, saying she had always wanted to try such a position, but had never
before had opportunity.
“Hang on, then, Sis,” warned Roger, as they started, “for I don’t want
to stop and run back to pick you up all the time.”
“No danger,” said Elise, merrily; “but it is fun! I feel like an
enthroned princess.”
“You look like one, too,” said Van Reypen, getting in beside Roger; “and
we are your two Gold-sticks in Waiting.”
The Swift Camilla brought up the rear of the procession, and in it were
Patty and Kenneth. Kenneth had begged for this arrangement, as he said
he had not yet had a ride in Patty’s new car.
“Neither have I,” declared Mr. Hepworth, and, after a moment’s
consideration, Patty said that she would take Kenneth half the way and
then exchange him for Mr. Hepworth.
“And nothing could be fairer nor that,” declared Kenneth, as he accepted
his fate.
It was a perfect day for motoring—bright, clear, and not too cool.
Spring flowers were in bloom in the gardens, and palms and shrubbery,
carefully kept, made the lawns picturesque.
“Ideal place to spend a summer,” said Kenneth to Patty, as they flew
along, “and great roads for motoring.”
“Yes, it is,” agreed Patty. “The others want to go to the mountains in
August, but I’m just crazy to stay here all summer. Perhaps I can
persuade them to go off by themselves, and leave me here. I could have
some one to chaperon me.”
“Of course you could; that would be gay. I expect Aunt Rachel would
come, if you wanted her.”
“She’s a dear old thing,—nobody I’d like better! But I haven’t dared
broach the subject yet. Don’t say anything about it.”
“All right, I won’t. But I say, Patty, what was that deal you had on
with Van Reypen? He was awful mad when I held him up out in the water.”
“Oh, it was nothing but foolishness!” said Patty, laughing at the
recollection. “I promised him that, if he beat me to the shore, we’d
call each other by our first names,—otherwise not.”
“That was a _nice_ wager!” exclaimed Kenneth, in disgruntled tones.
“Why, Patty, you don’t know that chap well enough to call him by his
first name!”
“Nonsense, Ken; I’m not grown-up and formal.”
“Well, he is!”
Patty laughed mischievously. “He is grown-up, but he isn’t a bit
formal.”
“I should say not! I can tell you I didn’t like the way he carted you
off last night!”
“Oh, Kenneth, what a goose you are! You know the whole story of that
performance. He couldn’t help the strap breaking, and, if my father
didn’t bother about it, I don’t think you need to!”
“That’s the same as telling me it’s none of my business.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it exactly that way, but, all the same, it isn’t!
Don’t you like Mr. Van Reypen?”
“Yes, I do; he’s a rattling good chap. But I don’t want him coming down
here and monopolising you for motoring and swimming and everything else.
I s’pose you’ll give him every other dance, to-night.”
Patty drew down the corners of her lips and made a sobbing sound in her
throat, as if she were on the verge of bursting into tears.
“D-don’t sco-o-ld me, K-kenneth!” she pleaded, in a voice which she
meant to sound tearful, but which was choking with laughter, and didn’t
fool Kenneth a bit.
“You’re a little coquette, that’s what you are, Patty; and I won’t stand
it! I knew you long before Van Reypen did, and he’s not going to cut me
out, I can tell you!”
“Good gracious, Kenneth! I should say he wasn’t! Why, he’s only an
acquaintance, and you’re one of my oldest friends!”
“Of course I am;” and Patty’s hearty tone made Kenneth feel a little
ashamed of his flash of jealousy.
“Well, then, don’t let me hear any more such foolish talk! Here I am
taking you ridy-by in my dear little car, and, instead of appreciating
it, you scold me all to pieces!”
“Forgive me, Patty; I am a brute. But somehow Van Reypen has such a way
with him. He acts as if he owned you and this car——”
“And ‘The Pebbles’ and father and Nan,” supplemented Patty, going off
into a peal of laughter. “Well, Ken, I can’t see any way for you to get
even with him but to act as if you owned us all yourself.”
“I can’t do it,” said Kenneth; “I haven’t that arrogance of nature.”
“What a pity!” said Patty, looking at him, with laughing eyes.