BUSY DAYS
Nan was as good as her word. Instead of trying to persuade Patty not to
study so hard, she did all she could to keep the study hours free from
interruption.
Many a time when Nan wanted Patty's company or assistance, she refrained
from telling her so, and unselfishly left the girl to herself as much as
possible.
The result of this was that Patty gave herself up to her books and her
school work to such an extent that she allowed herself almost no social
recreation, and took little or no exercise beyond her walks to and from
school.
This went on for a time, but Patty was, after all, of a sensitive and
observing nature, and she soon discovered, by a certain wistful
expression on Nan's face, or a tone of regret in her voice, that she was
often sacrificing her own convenience to Patty's.
Patty's sense of proportion rebelled at this, and she felt that she must
be more obliging to Nan, who was so truly kind to her.
And so she endeavoured to cram more duties into her already full days,
and often after a hard day's work in school, when she would have been
glad to throw on a comfortable house gown and rest in her own room, she
dressed herself prettily and went out calling with her stepmother, or
assisted her to receive her own guests.
Gay-hearted Nan was not acutely observant, and it never occurred to her
that all this meant any self-sacrifice on Patty's part. She accepted with
pleasure each occasion when Patty's plans fell in with her own, and the
more this was the case, the more she expected it, so that poor Patty
again found herself bewildered by her multitude of conflicting duties.
"I have heard," she thought to herself one day, "that duties never clash,
but it seems to me they never do anything else. Now, this afternoon I'm
sure it's my duty to write my theme, and yet I promised the girls I'd be
at rehearsal, and then, Nan is so anxious for me to go shopping with her,
that I honestly don't know which I ought to do; but I believe I'll write
my theme, because that does seem the most important."
"Patty," called Nan's voice from the hall, "you'll go with me this
afternoon, won't you? I have to decide between those two hats, you know,
and truly I can't take the responsibility alone."
"Oh, Nan," said Patty, "it really doesn't matter which hat you get,
they're both so lovely. I've seen them, you know, and truly I think one
is just as becoming as the other. And honest, I'm fearfully busy to-day."
"Oh, pshaw, Patty. I've let you alone afternoons for almost a week now,
or at least for two or three days, anyhow. I think you might go with me
to-day."
Good-natured Patty always found it hard to resist coaxing, so with a
little sigh she consented, and gave up her whole afternoon to Nan.
That meant sitting up late at night to study, but this was now getting to
be the rule with Patty, and not the exception.
So the weeks flew by, and as commencement day drew nearer, Patty worked
harder and her nerves grew more strained and tense, until a breakdown of
some sort seemed imminent.
Mr. Fairfield at last awoke to the situation, and told Patty that she was
growing thin and pale and hollow-eyed.
"Never mind," said Patty, looking at her father with an abstracted air,
"I haven't time now, Papa, even to discuss the subject. Commencement day
is next week, to-morrow my examinations begin, and I have full charge of
the costumes for the play, and they're not nearly ready yet."
"You mustn't work so hard, Patty," said Nan, in her futile way.
"Nan, if you say that to me again, I'll throw something at you! I give
you fair warning, people, that I'm so bothered and worried that my nerves
are all on edge, and my temper is pretty much the same way. Now, until
after commencement I've got to work hard, but if I just live through
that, I'll be sweet and amiable again, and will do anything you want me
to."
Patty was half laughing, but it was plain to be seen she was very much in
earnest.
Commencement was to occur the first week in June, and the examinations,
which took place the week before, were like a nightmare to poor Patty.
Had she been free to give her undivided attention, she might have taken
them more calmly. But her mind was so full of the troubles and
responsibilities consequent on the play, that it was almost impossible to
concentrate her thoughts on the examination work. And yet the
examinations were of far more importance than the play, for Patty was
most anxious to graduate with honours, and she felt sure that she knew
thoroughly the ground she had been over in her studies.
At last examinations were finished, and though not yet informed of her
markings, Patty felt that on the whole she had been fairly successful,
and Friday night she went home from school with a heart lighter than it
had been for many weeks.
"Thank goodness, it's over!" she cried as she entered the house, and
clasping Nan around the waist, she waltzed her down the hall in a mad joy
of celebration.
"Well, I am glad," said Nan, after she had recovered her breath; "now you
can rest and get back your rosy cheeks once more."
"Not yet," said Patty gaily; "there is commencement day and the play yet.
They're fun compared to examinations, but still they mean a tremendous
lot of work. To-morrow will be my busiest day yet, and I've bought me an
alarm clock, because I have to get up at five o'clock in order to get
through the day at all."
"What nonsense," said Nan, but Patty only laughed, and scurried away to
dress for dinner.
When the new alarm clock went off at five the next morning, Patty awoke
with a start, wondering what in the world had happened.
Then, as she slowly came to her senses, she rubbed her sleepy eyes,
jumped up quickly, and began to dress.
By breakfast time she had accomplished wonders.
"I've rewritten two songs," she announced at the breakfast table, "and
sewed for an hour on Hilda's fairy costume, and cut out a thousand gilt
stars for the scenery, and made two hundred paper violets besides!"
"You are a wonder, Patty," said Nan, but Mr. Fairfield looked at his
daughter anxiously. Her eyes were shining with excitement, and there was
a little red spot on either cheek.
"Be careful, dear," he said. "It would be pretty bad if, after getting
through your examinations, you should break down because of this foolish
play."
"It isn't a foolish play, Papa," said Patty gaily; "it's most wise and
sensible. I ought to know, for I wrote most of it myself, and I've
planned all the costumes and helped to make many of them. One or two,
though, we have to get from a regular costumer, and I have to go and see
about them to-day. Want to go with me, Nan?"
"I'd love to go," said Nan, "but I haven't a minute to spare all day
long. I'm going to the photographer's, and then to Mrs. Stuart's
luncheon, and after that to a musicale."
"Never mind," said Patty, "it won't be much fun. I just have to pick out
the costumes for Joan of Arc and Queen Elizabeth."
"Your play seems to include a variety of characters," said Mr. Fairfield.
"Yes, it does," said Patty, "and most of the dresses we've contrived
ourselves; but these two are beyond us, so we're going to hire them.
Good-bye, now, people; I must fly over to see Elise before I go down
town."
"Who's going with you, Patty, to the costumer's?" asked her father.
"Miss Sinclair, Papa; one of the teachers in our school. I am to meet her
at the school at eleven o'clock. We are going to the costume place, and
then to the shops to buy a few things for the play. I'll be home to
luncheon, Nan, at one o'clock."
Patty flew away on her numerous errands, going first to Elise
Farrington's to consult on some important matters. Hilda and Clementine
were there, and there was so much to be decided that the time passed by
unnoticed, until Patty exclaimed, "Why, girls, it's half-past eleven now,
and I was to meet Miss Sinclair at eleven! Oh, I'm so sorry! I make it a
point never to keep anybody waiting. I don't know when I ever missed an
engagement before. Now, you must finish up about the programmes and
things, and I'll scurry right along. She must be there waiting for me."
The school was only two blocks away, and Patty covered the ground as
rapidly as possible. But when she reached there Miss Sinclair had gone.
Another teacher who was there told Patty that Miss Sinclair had waited
until twenty minutes after eleven, and then she had concluded that she
must have mistaken the appointment, and that probably Patty had meant she
would meet her at the costumer's. So she had gone on, leaving word for
Patty to follow her there, if by any chance she should come to the school
looking for her.
Patty didn't know what to do. The costumer's shop was a considerable
distance away, and Patty was not in the habit of going around the city
alone. But this seemed to her a special occasion, and, too, there was no
time to hesitate.
She thought of telephoning to Nan, but of course she had already gone
out. She couldn't call her father up from down town, and it wouldn't help
matters any to ask Elise or any of the other girls to go with her. So,
having to make a hasty decision, Patty determined to go alone.
She knew the address, and though she didn't know exactly how to reach it,
she felt sure she could learn by a few enquiries. But, after leaving the
Broadway car, she discovered that she had to travel quite a distance
east, and there was no cross-town line in that locality. Regretting the
necessity of keeping Miss Sinclair waiting, Patty hurried on, and after
some difficulty reached the place, only to find that the costumer had
recently moved, and that his new address was some distance farther up
town.
Patty did not at all like the situation. She was unfamiliar with this
part of the town, she felt awkward and embarrassed at being there alone,
and she was extremely sorry not to have kept her engagement with Miss
Sinclair.
All of this, added to the fact that she was nervous and overwrought, as
well as physically tired out, rendered her unable to use her really good
judgment and common sense.
She stood on a street corner, uncertain what to do next; and her
uncertainty was distinctly manifest on her countenance.
The driver of a passing hansom called out, "Cab, Miss?" And this seemed
to Patty a providential solution of her difficulty.
Recklessly unheeding the fact that she had never before been in a public
cab alone, she jumped in, after giving the costumer's number to the
driver. As she rode up town she thought it over, and concluded that,
after all, she had acted wisely, and that she could explain to her father
how the emergency had really necessitated this unusual proceeding.
It was a long ride, and when Patty jumped out of the cab and asked the
driver his price, she was a little surprised at the large sum he
mentioned.
However, she thought it was wiser to pay it without protest than to make
herself further conspicuous by discussing the matter.
She opened the little wrist-bag which she carried, only to make the
startling discovery that her purse was missing.
Even as she realised this, there flashed across her memory the fact that
her father had often told her that it was a careless way to carry money,
and that she would sooner or later be relieved of her purse by some
clever pickpocket.
Patty could not be sure whether this was what had happened in the present
instance, or whether she had left her purse at home. As she had carried
change for carfare in her coat pocket, she had not expected to need a
large sum of money, and her confused brain refused to remember whether
she had put her purse in her bag or not.
She found herself staring at the cabman, who was looking distrustfully at
her.
"I think I have had my pocket picked," she said slowly, "or else I left
my purse at home. I don't know which."
"No, no, Miss, that won't go down," said the cabman, not rudely, but with
an uncomfortable effect of being determined to have his fare. "Pay up,
now, pay up," he went on, "and you'll save yourself trouble in the end."
"But I can't pay you," said Patty. "I haven't any money."
"Then you didn't ought to ride. It ain't the first time I've knowed a
swell young lady to try to beat her way. Come, Miss, if you don't pay me
I'll have to drive you to the station house."
"What!" cried Patty, her face turning white with anger and mortification.
"Yes, Miss, that's the way we do. I s'pose you know you've stole a ride."
"Oh, wait a minute," said Patty; "let me think."
"Think away, Miss; perhaps you can remember where you've hid your money."
"But I tell you I haven't any," said Patty, her indignation rising above
her fear. "Now, look here, I have a friend right in here at this address;
let me speak to her, and she'll come out and pay you."
"No, no, Miss; you can't ketch me that way. I've heard of them friends
before. But I'll tell you what," he added, as Patty stood looking at him
blankly, "I'll go in there with you, and if so be's your friend's there
and pays up the cash, I've nothing more to say."
The hansom-driver climbed down from his seat and went with Patty into the
costumer's shop.
A stolid-looking woman of Italian type met them and enquired what was
wanted.
"Is Miss Sinclair here?" asked Patty eagerly.
"No, Miss, there's nobody here by way of a customer."
"But hasn't a lady been here in the last hour, to look at costumes for a
play?"
"No, Miss, nobody's been here this whole morning."
"You see you can't work that game," said the cabman. "I'm sorry, Miss,
but I guess you'll have to come along with me."