CHAPTER XV A PLEASANT SATURDAY

At half-past five Mrs. Farrington sent the girls home in her carriage. The four who lived farthest were sent first and this left the two Hart girls and Patty to wait for the second trip.

They had returned to the Farrington house and were waiting in the library. Roger was there, and also two of Elise’s younger sisters. Patty was glad to see more of the Farrington family and chatted pleasantly with the little girls. But before she went away Roger found an opportunity to speak to her again.

“I say, you know,” he began, “I don’t know just how to express it, but I want to thank you for the way you talked to me. It wasn’t so much what you said, but that brave, plucky kind of talk does brace a fellow up wonderfully and I’m no end obliged to you.”

“You’re more than welcome, I’m sure,” said Patty, smiling; “but I didn’t say anything worth while. I wish I could really help you, but if you’ll just look on the bright side, you know you can help yourself a whole lot.”

“You help other poor little boys in hospitals,” said Roger; “you go to see Tommy Skelling.”

“Well, I can’t go to see you,” said Patty, laughing; “but I’ll tell you what I will do; I’ll make a scrap-book for you, or a peanut doll, whichever you’d rather have.”

“I think I’ll take the scrap-book,” said Roger, with the air of one making an important decision. “You see I might be tempted to eat up the peanut doll.”

“That’s so; well, I’ll promise to make you a nice little scrap-book and send it to you next week. And I hope you’ll get along all right, and, honestly, I think you will.”

“I think so, too,” said Roger, cheerfully; and then the carriage returned and Patty went home.

That evening she told her father all about the Farringtons.

“It was so funny, papa,” she said, “to be visiting in one of those grand millionaire houses. Why, it’s like those that are pictured in the magazines, you know. And I thought that those people were always ostentatious and purse-proud and generally snippy to us poorer classes. But the Farringtons aren’t that way a bit. They’re refined and gentle and awfully kind. They have some queer ways, and somehow they seem a little discontented—not entirely happy, you know—but very pleasant and sweet to us girls. But aren’t Elise’s parents good to her to give her all that pleasure? The Casino, I mean.”

“The Casino is truly a splendid thing,” said Mr. Fairfield, “but do you think it necessarily shows that Mr. and Mrs. Farrington are more fond of their children than other people are?”

Patty thought a while, quite seriously; then she said: “I believe I see what you mean. You mean that Mr. Farrington is fond of his children, just as other fathers are; but that he happens to have money enough to give them bigger things. Because I know, Papa Fairfield, that if you had millions of dollars, you’d be plenty fond enough of me to give me a dozen Casinos, wouldn’t you?”

“Two dozen, if you wanted them, Puss, and if I could afford them. Yes, that’s what I mean, Patty, and it’s the old question of proportion. From what I know in a general way of Mr. Farrington and from what you tell me of their home life, I believe they have a good sense of proportion and are consequently people who are pleasant to know. But, my child, you must look out for your own sense of proportion. Remember Elise is a rich girl and lives in luxury, but you are not; and while we are in fairly comfortable circumstances, I want you to realise the difference and not feel envious of her, or discontented because you can’t live as she does.”

“Indeed I don’t, papa; I’m not quite such a goose as that, as you ought to know by this time. But I do like to visit there and I enjoy the lovely house and the beautiful pictures and things.”

“That’s all right, Patty girl, if you like Elise, too. But I don’t want you to cultivate anybody just for the sake of their beautiful home and pleasant entertainment.”

“I do like Elise, papa, very much; she’s a peculiar girl and I don’t think I quite understand her yet. But there’s a good deal to her and the more I see of her, the better I like her. She has invited me to lunch there on Saturday, and afterwards go to a matinée with her. The French governess will take us, and Mrs. Farrington told Elise she might ask me. May I go, papa?”

“Why, yes, child, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t. I want you to have all the good times that it’s right for a little girl to have. What is the matinée?”

“I forget the name of it, but it’s one of those ‘Humpty Dumpty’ sort of shows, with fairies and wonderful scenes. Elise says it was brought over from London, and it’s something like what they call a Christmas pantomime over there.”

“That’s all right, Chicken; you may go, and I hope you’ll have a beautiful time. And then some day you must invite Elise here to luncheon and I’ll take you both to a show.”

“Oh, papa, that will be lovely! How good you are to me. I haven’t seen Mr. Farrington yet, but I’m sure he isn’t a quarter as handsome as you are, if he is twice as rich.”

“He’s probably a hundred times as rich,” said Mr. Fairfield, laughing, “and twice as handsome.”

“I don’t believe a word of it,” said Patty, smiling at her father, “and Nan wouldn’t, either.”

“I don’t believe she would. Between you two flatterers I run a fair chance of being completely spoiled.”

“When shall I see Nan?” asked Patty; “isn’t she coming to New York this winter?”

“Yes, after the holidays she and Mrs. Allen are coming to town for a month or so.”

“Lovely! where will they be? At The Wilberforce?”

“No, they will stay at a hotel farther uptown, where Mrs. Allen’s sister lives.”

“I’ll be awfully glad to see Nan again; and the girls will all like her, too, I’m sure. Papa, do you know, I think I have a very lovely lot of friends, counting you, and Nan, and Grandma, and all the Grigs.”

“And Kenneth?”

“Oh, yes; if you count boys, Kenneth and Clifford Morse and now Roger Farrington. He’s an awfully nice boy, papa.”

“Yes, I think so, Puss, from what you told me about him; and I’m sorry for the poor chap. You must make a first-class scrap-book for him, Patty; make it real interesting, you know; with pictures that a boy would like and really funny jokes and little stories. And some evening when Hepworth is up here we’ll get him to make some funny sketches for it and design a cover.”

“Gay!” cried Patty, “that’s the very thing! Mr. Hepworth’s comic sketches are too funny for anything. And, papa, he’s another good friend, isn’t he? I forgot him. Don’t you think I’m particularly blessed in my friends, papa?”

“I think you are a blessed little girl and have a happy and contented disposition. And you’ll find out in the long run that that is better than wealth or high social position.”

On Saturday Patty went to Elise’s for luncheon. The Farrington carriage came for her and a maid was sent to accompany her.

Although without a shade of envy in her mind, Patty thoroughly enjoyed the ride in the luxurious carriage, with a smart and imposing coachman and footman and the trim little French maid beside her.

“I’m afraid,” she thought to herself, “that I have a love of luxury; but papa says if I’m not envious it won’t do any harm; and I’m sure I’m not.”

When they reached the Farringtons’ Elise took Patty at once to her own room. Patty was not surprised to find that this was the prettiest bedroom she had ever seen, and she fairly revelled in the beautiful furnishings and decorations.

“Oh, this room is all right,” said Elise, carelessly; “but if you want to see a really remarkable room, just step out here.”

As she spoke, Elise opened the door out to what Patty supposed was a sort of balcony or enclosed veranda at the back of the house. But it was not exactly that; it was, as Elise expressed it, “a glass room.” It was an extension of the house, and the sides and roof were entirely of glass. A clever arrangement of Japanese screens adjusted the light as desired.

“You see,” explained Elise, “I’m a sort of sun-worshipper. I never can get sunlight enough in the city, so I planned this room all myself and father had it built for me. There is an extension of the house below it and they only had to put up a sort of frame or skeleton room, and then enclose it with glass. So here, you see, I have plenty of light and I just revel in it. I call it my studio, because I paint a little; but I sit here more to read, or to chum with my friends, or just to loaf and do nothing.”

“I love sunlight, too,” exclaimed Patty, “and I think this room is wonderful. I used to have a pretty little enclosed balcony, at my aunt’s in Vernondale; but of course it wasn’t like this.”

The furniture in Elise’s studio was almost entirely of gilded wicker-work, and gilt-framed mirrors added to the general glittering effect. On the whole, Patty thought she preferred her balcony at Aunt Alice’s, but this room was very novel and interesting and far better adapted for winter weather.

“Of course there’s no way to heat it,” said Elise, “for I wasn’t going to have the glass walls spoiled with old pipes and radiators. But the sun usually warms it sufficiently, or I can leave the doors open from my bedroom.”

“How do you like the Oliphant?” asked Patty as the girls settled down for an intimate chat.

“Oh, I like it all right; I think the school is as good as any and Miss Oliphant seems very nice, though really I haven’t seen much of her. I like the girls fairly well, but the Grigs seem to be the nicest ones of the whole school.”

“Oh, you think that because you know them better than the others. Isn’t Hilda a dear?”

“Yes, I suppose so; but somehow, I don’t get on with her quite as well as with the others. I always seem to rub her the wrong way, though I never mean to.”

“That’s because you both want to rule,” said Patty, laughing; “has it never struck you, Elise, that you’re very fond of having things your own way?”

“Yes,” returned Elise, tranquilly, “I know quite well what you mean. It’s my nature to boss others.”

“Yes, that’s just it; and it’s Hilda’s nature, too.”

“And it’s your nature, too.”

“Yes, I think it is. But I don’t care so much about it as you two girls, and I’m more willing to give in.”

“You’re better natured—that’s the truth. And that’s one reason why I like you best of all the schoolgirls. And I hope you like me; do you?”

“Of course I do, or I shouldn’t be here now.”

“I don’t believe you would. But there are some girls, and you must excuse my saying this, who just like me, or pretend to like me, because I’m one of ‘the rich Farringtons.’ I know that sounds horrid, but I think you understand. It’s so ridiculous that the mere accident of having more money than some other people should make people think us desirable acquaintances.”

“I think I understand what you mean,” said Patty, smiling at Elise’s earnestness, “but don’t you bother about me. I like you because I think you’re the kind of a girl I like; and I don’t care a speck more for you because your father’s a millionaire. But, to be truly honest, aside from your own charming self, I do like to see all these lovely things you have in your home; and I like to play in your Casino and I like to ride in your carriage.”

“So do I,” said Elise; “I enjoy it all. But if it were all taken away from me to-morrow, I wouldn’t mind so very much. Do you know, I’ve always thought I should rather enjoy it if I had to earn my own living.”

“Well, you are a queer girl, and I hope you won’t be able to realise your wish very soon; for, if you’ll excuse my saying it, I don’t believe you could earn your own living.”

“I don’t know whether I could or not; but it would be so exciting to try.”

“Well, it’s an excitement that you ought to be thankful not to have at present.”

Then the girls went down to luncheon, and after that to the matinée. The time passed like a happy dream, and when Patty was again set down at her own home, she felt more than ever glad that she had such delightful friends. She spent the evening giving her father and Grandma a detailed account of her experiences, and succeeded in making them almost as enthusiastic as herself.