PHILIP’S PICNIC
On Patty’s return she found the veranda almost deserted. Christine and
Mr. Hepworth, Elise and Mr. Van Reypen had gone down to the beach. Mr.
Fairfield had gone to the city, and Nan was chatting with Kenneth.
“Ducky stepmother of mine,” said Patty, as she wound her arm around
Nan’s neck, “if you don’t want to monopolise this young man, I’d like to
borrow him for a short time.”
“You may take him, Patty,” said Nan, with a resigned sigh. “But I
suppose you know you will leave me alone in a cold world! Your father
has gone to New York.”
“But, Nan, you ought to have some time to yourself. Solitude is an
awfully good thing once in a while. Don’t you sort of feel the need of
it now?”
“Yes, I think I do,” said Nan, laughing; “so you may have Kenneth for a
while. What are you going to do with him?”
“Take him for a spin,” said Patty, “Come on, Ken.”
Kenneth hesitated for a moment. “Don’t you want to go spinning with
Patty, Mrs. Fairfield?” he said.
“No, thank you; I have some household matters to attend to. One can’t
have a house party without occasionally having an eye on domestic
affairs. So, good-bye. Be home in time for luncheon.”
Soon Patty and Kenneth were flying along the beach road, and the Swift
Camilla was living up to her highest reputation. Patty was driving, and
Kenneth was polite and amiable, but not merry.
After a time, Patty slowed down speed a little.
“Kenneth,” she said, abruptly, “I’ve something to say to you, and I’m
going to say it right straight out. You know what Elise told you that I
said about you, or rather about the locket you gave me?”
“Yes, I know; and, by the way, it seems that just about everybody else
knows, too.”
“Never mind that,” said Patty, knowing that the boy was annoyed because
Mona had interfered in the matter. “The point is, Ken, that what Elise
told you I said wasn’t entirely true.”
“Not entirely true? How much of it was true? Since you seem to know all
about her conversation with me, I suppose she told you.”
“No, she didn’t. Now listen, Ken; I hate, awfully, to talk against
Elise, but I’ve simply got to stand up for my own rights in this thing.
I did tell her that I only wore that locket once or twice, but I
_didn’t_ tell her that I didn’t care anything about it. For I do. I care
a great deal about it.”
“Then, why don’t you wear it oftener?”
“I’ll be perfectly frank with you, Ken. It’s just because that locket
with your picture in it was too,—well, too personal a sort of present
for you to give me, or for me to wear.”
“You took it!”
“Yes; after I’d asked father, and he told me I might, but you know I
went away with Elise then, to Paris, and every time she saw it she
pretended that it meant a great deal more than it did. Of course, it was
only a token of our boy and girl friendship, but she chose to pretend it
meant romance and sentiment and all those things.”
“But since it meant and still means our boy and girl friendship, I think
you might wear it sometimes.”
“I see I’ll have to tell you the whole story,” said Patty, with a little
sigh. “Well, last Christmas Elise bought a seal ring for Roger, and
then, at the last minute, she decided she’d like to give it to you, and
she asked my advice about it. I told her it was too personal a present
for a girl to give a young man, and I didn’t think she ought to do it.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to give you a nice present, but I
didn’t think it looked right for her to give you that kind of a one. I
told her to get you books, or something like that.”
“What’s all this got to do with the locket?”
“Why, Elise said that I needn’t talk about personal presents, after I
had accepted from you a locket with your picture in it. And so I told
her that that was very different, as we were old friends, and, anyhow, I
had only worn it once or twice. But I didn’t say I didn’t care anything
for it.”
Kenneth’s face cleared, and he turned toward Patty with an honest,
beaming smile.
“It’s all right, Patty; I see through it now. Elise did try to make me
think you had said something mean, but you didn’t, and I felt sure you
hadn’t.”
“You didn’t feel _quite_ sure, Ken.”
“No, I’m ashamed to say I didn’t, at first, but that was because I was
so hurt at what I was told you had said. But it’s all right now, and I
know you’ll forgive me, like the trump you are. I’d grasp your strong
right hand, if I weren’t afraid that would make you steer us both into
the ocean.”
“I’ll consider it grasped. And I’m downright glad that we’re good chums
again, for I hate to have squabbles with anybody, and I almost never
do.”
“I know it, Patty; you’re a sweet-tempered little thing, and I was a
mean-spirited coward to believe for a minute that you’d say anything
unkind about any of your friends.”
“Especially you, Ken;” and Patty flashed him a glance of comradeship.
“But it was Mona who fixed this thing up for us.”
“Isn’t she a queer girl? She’s so blunt, and yet very few girls could
have done what she did for you, Patty.”
“I know it; and I do appreciate it, and I shall always love her for it.
But, Ken, what can I say to Elise?”
“Don’t say anything, Patty; that’s the best way.”
“And, if she ever tries again to lower me in your esteem, what then?”
“She won’t succeed! I’ve had my little lesson.”
“Good for you, Ken! If you ever have reason to think that I said
anything mean about you, you come and ask me about it,—because Mona may
not be around next time.”
“I will, indeed, Patty.”
And then, peace being thoroughly established, the trouble passed out of
their minds forever, and the old chummy relations were resumed. They had
a beautiful drive along the coast, and, when they got back to “The
Pebbles,” it was nearly lunch time. They found the whole crowd assembled
on the veranda, and Mr. Van Reypen seemed to be spokesman at a very
important conference.
“It’ll be the most fun of anything you ever saw!” he declared. “A real
old-fashioned picnic! None of your modern country-club affairs. But a
tablecloth spread on the ground, and sandwiches and devilled eggs, and a
campfire to boil the coffee, and lemonade, and hopper-grasses hopping in
the pie, and everything just as it should be! Oh, gorgeous!”
“Why sit on the ground?” asked Christine. “Aren’t there any benches in
the picnic place?”
“We’re not going to a picnic grounds, little girl,” Mr. Van Reypen
informed her; “we’re going to a real, live woods; to the darksome depths
of a dingley dell.”
“Tell us all about it!” cried Patty, as she and Kenneth joined the
group.
“Entirely my own invention!” cried Philip; “it’s a picnic I’m arranging
for to-morrow, and I’d be honoured if you two would deign to attend.”
“We will that!” exclaimed Patty; “but I heard something about
grasshoppers. Do we have to have those?”
“No; if you prefer, you can have ants or spiders. But you can’t have a
real picnic without some such attachments. Now listen to what I’ve
planned! It’s just too lovely! I’ve engaged three runabouts from the
amiable garage man over forninst. Camilla will make four, and, if Mr.
and Mrs. Fairfield will lead the parade in their own car, we’ll have an
imposing procession.”
“Not I!” cried Nan, gaily. “If you young people want to go on this
entomological picnic, I’ve not the slightest objection. And I’ll see
that you have enough sandwiches and devilled eggs to feed both
yourselves and the grasshoppers, but I’ll have to ask you to excuse my
husband and myself from attending.”
“The only regrets I’ve had so far,” said Philip; “anybody else who don’t
want to go?”
But the others all declared that the plan was perfect, and they wouldn’t
miss the picnic for anything.
“Now, I’ll run the whole show,” went on Philip. “You understand it’s my
picnic entirely, and I’m host, and master of ceremonies, and chief
engineer. I shall provide the entire luncheon, and, with due respects
and thanks to Mrs. Fairfield for her offer of hard-boiled eggs, I must
decline it, as I shall get all those things from the pleasant-faced and
generously proportioned lady who is queen of the kitchen over at my
hotel.”
They all professed themselves satisfied to let Mr. Van Reypen take full
charge of his own picnic, and all expressed perfect willingness to be
merely passengers. Mona was present, as usual, and was of course
included in the invitation. She was enthusiastic in her delight at the
prospect, and, quite forgetting to go home to luncheon, she accepted
Nan’s invitation to lunch at “The Pebbles.”
* * * * *
The next day proved an ideal one for Philip’s picnic. They were to start
about ten o’clock, for he informed them the particular dingley dell he
had in mind was a fairly long distance off.
So, promptly at ten o’clock, he came over to “The Pebbles” in a
runabout, accompanied by a chauffeur. He was followed by two other
runabouts, each in charge of a chauffeur.
The picnic party stood on the veranda, not quite sure what the
arrangements were to be, but laughingly declaring they were ready to
follow orders.
“First,” said Mr. Van Reypen, “I’ll load up this car;” and into the
first runabout he assisted Miss Galbraith, and bade Roger Farrington get
in beside her. Needless to say, these two were well satisfied, and went
spinning off down the road.
Next, turning to Mr. Hepworth, he asked him if he could drive a car.
“An electric? Yes,” said Mr. Hepworth.
“Because, if you don’t want to drive it, this car will hold three, and
you can take a chauffeur,” said Philip, who had provided for every
emergency.
“No, I prefer to drive,” said Mr. Hepworth, quietly, and then Philip
said: “All right; and I give you Miss Farley for a companion. Don’t
quarrel on the way.”
And so, with Christine, Mr. Hepworth drove away, and Philip turned to
the others.
“I hardly know how to divide up the rest of us,” he said, stroking his
chin, thoughtfully, “but I’ll try it this way. Harper, will you take
Miss Farrington in this very pretty-looking new runabout?”
It was an awkward situation, though Philip didn’t know it. Elise was
delighted with the plan, and beamed all over her face as she took the
seat indicated. Kenneth was not at all pleased, and it was really with
difficulty that he refrained from showing it. But Patty gave him a
pleading look, as if begging him to make the best of the situation, and
so, with what was apparently hearty good-will, he took his seat beside
Elise, saying, “All right, here goes for a fine ride!”
Kenneth was fond of driving a car, and, not owning one himself, he
rarely had the opportunity; so Patty felt sure he would enjoy the trip
quite irrespective of who might be beside him. And, as Patty realised,
there was no other way to arrange the couples from Mr. Van Reypen’s
viewpoint, for she knew from the beginning that he intended to ride with
her.
“I declare, I’m a car short!” exclaimed Philip, as Kenneth and Elise
drove away. “I should have ordered four cars, and I only engaged three!
We’ll have to stay at home! Shall you mind?”
“No,” said Patty, mischievously, “I don’t mind. I’ll read aloud to you,
if you like.”
“It seems too bad for me not to go when it’s my own picnic,” said
Philip, musingly. “You don’t happen to know of any little motor car we
could use, do you?”
“We might take Camilla,” suggested Patty, in a dubious tone.
“Just the thing! Say we do? How clever of you to think of that!” and, as
Patty broke into peals of laughter at his foolishness, Philip flew down
the steps and around to the garage, returning in a moment with Camilla,
which Miller was impatiently holding in readiness.
“I’m going to drive,” Philip announced, calmly.
“All right, I don’t care; but, then, you must let me drive coming home.
I declare, with a house party, I almost never get a chance to drive my
own car!”
“Never mind! Your horrid old house party will soon be going, and then
you can drive all you like.”
“It isn’t a horrid old house party! It’s a lovely, sweet, delicious
house party, and I wish it would stay forever!”
“This part of it will, if you give him the slightest encouragement.”
“Oh, I don’t want part of it unless I have it all! I had no idea house
parties were such fun. I think we’re having beautiful times, don’t you?”
“Yes; since you’ve made up with young Harper;” and Philip’s eyes
twinkled.
“Why, what do you mean?” exclaimed Patty, blushing pink. “How did you
know anything about it?”
“I didn’t, and I don’t, and I don’t want to! But when I see my little
hostess going around with a sad and forlorn expression on her face, and
one of her guests looking as if he’d lost his last friend, and then they
both go for a motor ride and come back jubilantly chummy,—why, then,—I
Sherlock it out that they’ve had a squabble and a make-up! Am I
altogether wrong?”
“Not altogether,” said Patty, demurely.