Patty's Motor Car

“You are, too! Now, are you sure Patty said this thing?”

“Elise said so,” muttered Kenneth, who had forgotten he was talking to a stranger, because Mona had assumed such compelling intimacy.

“And are you sure it was mean?”

“Well, rather! You can judge for yourself!” Kenneth’s indignation got the better of his self-restraint, and he told Mona frankly the truth.

“Once, when Patty went away, I gave her a little locket as a parting gift, and she thanked me and said she liked it. Now, Elise tells me that Patty told her she didn’t care a snap about that locket, and she only wore it once or twice.”

“And you told Miss Farrington that you didn’t believe Patty said that?”

“Yes; but Elise insisted that she did say it, and somehow I believe Elise. Her words had the ring of truth.”

“Thank you, Mr. Harper, for your confidence;” Mona spoke very earnestly. “Believe me, you have done no harm in telling me this. You think it is none of my business, but it is. You think me a queer girl, and I am. But let me tell you one thing, Patty Fairfield is a true, sweet, loyal nature, sound to the core; and Elise Farrington is not above a trifling deception, now and then, if she wishes to gain a point. Please take me back to the house.”

They walked the short distance in silence, Kenneth secretly thinking that Miss Galbraith was certainly queer; and at the same time wondering if Elise could have made up that story. But, as he had said, there was something in the tone of Elise’s voice, as she repeated Patty’s words, that convinced him they were true. With a sigh, he went up the steps by Miss Galbraith’s side, and then they separated, to join other partners.

The dance went on, with its merriment and gaiety, and of course no one would have known that either Patty or Kenneth had a troubled mind. Elise was in specially gay spirits, and Mona seemed to be enjoying herself thoroughly.

“It was a lovely party!” declared Elise, after it was over and the last guest gone. “It was just perfect. There wasn’t a flaw! Isn’t that so, Patty?”

“I had a good time,” said Patty, a little wearily; “but I’m awfully tired, and I’m going right straight to bed. Good-night, everybody; good-night, Roger, – good-night, Ken.”

She nodded pleasantly to the young men, and started up the stairs at once. Elise and Christine followed, and, when they reached the upper hall, Patty bade them a brief but pleasant good-night and went straight to her own room.

“I don’t know what to do,” she thought to herself, as she took off her pretty blue frock. “I can’t let the matter go without saying a word, – and I can’t say anything, because that would put Elise in the wrong, and she is my guest! I’ll just have to live it down, I suppose.”

But it wasn’t so easily lived down. The next morning, though Patty tried to be especially cordial to Kenneth, he avoided her whenever possible. Not noticeably to the others, – but Patty realised that he did not seek her company, or sit by her on the veranda, or ask to ride with her in the motor.

The morning dragged along, nobody seeming to have energy enough to propose any sort of fun.

“Patty’s birthday seems to have been too much for this crowd,” said Nan, laughingly. “I propose that you men all go for a swim, and let these exhausted girlies take a little nap. I think they danced too late, and I sha’n’t allow such dissipation again.”

“I feel fine, Mrs. Fairfield,” declared Elise. “I never get tired dancing. Do you, Christine?”

“No, I didn’t get tired, – I thought it was a lovely party. I very seldom have an opportunity to be in such gaieties.”

“But you’re tired, aren’t you, Patty?” asked Elise, as Patty sat on the veranda rail, leaning listlessly against a pillar. Before she had time to answer, however, a servant came walking along the drive, whom Patty recognised as one of the “Red Chimneys” footmen. He brought a note, which he handed to Patty, and then, with a deferential bow, he went away.

Patty asked permission to read the note, glanced it over, and then tossed it to Roger, saying, “We seem to be especially favoured!”

The note was an invitation for Patty and Roger to come over to “Red Chimneys” at once, but no one else was asked.

“Come on, Patty,” said Roger; “the others will excuse us for a little while, I’m sure.”

So Patty and Roger walked away by the shortcut across the two lawns, and found Mona in the doorway awaiting them.

She smiled as she put her arm around Patty, and said, “You’re the one I want, – I asked Mr. Farrington for a blind.”

“Well, I like that!” exclaimed Roger, looking incredulous.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” went on Mona, smiling at him; “the truth is, I want to see Patty privately on a very important matter. I didn’t want to send for her alone, because it looked so conspicuous. But our private conference won’t last more than ten minutes, and, if you can entertain yourself that long, I’ll take care of you afterward. Here’s the morning paper, and do try to be patient.”

Mona didn’t wait for Roger’s response, but, with her arm still around Patty, led her to the library, took her in, and closed the door.

“Patty,” she began, “I’m a queer girl, and you know it, – and I know it. You don’t like me very much, but I like you, and I’d do anything for you.”

“Good gracious, Mona! What are you getting at?”

“I’ll tell you exactly what I’m getting at, – and I’ll tell you right now. I may be queer, but I can see a hole through a millstone when anybody I love is concerned. Now, you know when you and Mr. Van Reypen and I were in the little arbour last night, we overheard somebody talking on the other side of the thick vines.”

“Really, Mona, I must beg of you not to go too far, or I may lose my temper!”

“Oh, no, you won’t, Patty Fairfield! You just sit still and listen. Now you know, as well as I do, we weren’t eavesdropping, – any of us, – but we all heard what Mr. Harper said to Miss Farrington.”

“Well, what of it?” Patty’s face was pale and her lips were set hard together. She was thoroughly angry at what she considered Mona’s unwarrantable interference, and she felt she could stand but little more.

“Just this of it! I asked Mr. Harper what it was that Miss Farrington told him about you.”

“Mona Galbraith! You didn’t!”

“I certainly did; and, what’s more, he told me.”

“Kenneth told you?” said Patty, incredulously.

“Yes, he did. And this was it. But perhaps you don’t want to know what it was.”

“Of course I do! Mona, tell me, quick!”

“Well, he said that Miss Farrington told him that you didn’t care a snap about the locket he gave you and that you only wore it once or twice.”

“What?” exclaimed Patty. “I don’t quite understand. The locket Kenneth gave me?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake! I understand now! That locket! Why, the idea! Say, Mona, you’re a trump to find this all out!”

“You didn’t think so at first.”

“No, I didn’t; and I’m sorry! You have played the part of a real friend, and you’ve done more for me than you realise! But, oh, Mona! how could Elise do a thing like that?”

“She’s that sort, that’s all. You know as well as I do she likes Kenneth Harper an awful lot, and she knows that he likes you better than he does her, so she’s trying to set him against you.”

“Set Kenneth against me? She couldn’t do it! Dear old Ken, we’re too good friends for that! But, Mona, how did you find out all this? You scarcely know these people.”

“Oh, I sized up that Farrington girl the minute I saw her! She isn’t a bit like her brother. He’s an all-round, good sort. And the poor chappie is still out there reading the paper! He must be devouring the advertisements by this time. Now, Patty, forget my part in this affair, skip over home, make it up with Mr. Harper, and do whatever you think best with that Farrington girl.”

“I can’t do anything with her, because she’s my guest; but I can make it up with Ken in just about two minutes! And, as for you, Mona, I don’t know how to thank you!”

“Oh, cut it out! I’d do heaps more than that for you, if I only had the chance! Fly now, for you must know how impatient I am to go and talk to my new beau, Mr. Farrington.”

So, after an embrace that was hearty enough at least to indicate her gratitude, Patty flew.

CHAPTER XIX

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.

CHAPTER XX

A NARROW ESCAPE

The picnic was the real thing. That is, it was the real old-fashioned sort of a picnic, and it was therefore a novelty to most of its participants.

Patty had been on many motor picnics, where elaborate luncheons were served by white-garbed waiters, with the same appointments of silver, glass, and china that she would use at home. But not since her Vernondale days had she attended this sort of picnic. There were no servants. The simple but appetising luncheon was spread on a tablecloth laid on the grass, and, true to tradition, a grasshopper now and then leaped in among the viands, or an audacious spider attempted to approach the feast. But these were few and easily vanquished by the brave and valiant men of the party.

The men, too, proved themselves capable in the arts of fire-building and coffee-making, so that Patty, who was a born cook and loved it, found no use for her talent. So she and the other girls set the table as daintily as they could with the primitive means at their command, and decorated it prettily with wild flowers.

“As a rule,” said Elise, as she sat with a sandwich in one hand and a glass of lemonade in the other, “I like silver forks and china plates at a picnic, but, for once, I do think these wooden butter plates and paper napkins are rather fun. What do you think, Patty?”

“Far be it from me to cast reflections on the goods my host provides, but, generally speaking, I confess I like my table a few feet above the over-attentive population of Mother Earth.”

“Oh, pshaw, Patty!” exclaimed Philip. “You’re no kind of a sport! You’re a pampered darling of luxurious modernity.”

“Gracious! What an awful thing to be!” cried Patty, in mock dismay.

“And, anyway, Patty,” said the blunt Mona, “if you hadn’t put all those old weedy flowers on the tablecloth, there wouldn’t be any ants and things. They’ve mostly come out of your decorations.”

“I believe you’re right,” said Patty, laughing. “So the picnic is a success after all, and it’s only our decorations that made any trouble.”

Then they all ate heartily of the feast, and there was much laughter and merriment, and afterward they sat round the fire and told stories and sang songs, and they all declared it was the very nicest picnic ever was, and they were sorry when it was time to go home.

“But we must be going,” Patty said, “for I promised Nan we’d be home in ample time to dress for dinner, and it’s a fairly long ride.”

“Do we go back the same way we came?” asked Elise, looking at Philip with an arch air of enquiry.

“Go back any way you please, fair lady,” he replied. “The way we came is the shortest, but there is a longer way round, if you prefer it.”

“I don’t mean that,” said Elise. “I mean do we go with the same partners?”

“I do,” declared Philip, “and Miss Fairfield does. The rest of you may do just as you choose.”

“Then I think we’ll go as we came,” said Elise, with an air of satisfaction.

The simplicity of Philip’s picnic made it an easy matter to pack up to go home, as there was little beside the tablecloth to take with them, and so they were soon ready for the homeward trip.

As host, Philip sent off the other cars first, and, after they were all started, he stepped into the Swift Camilla, beside Patty, who was already in the driving seat.