Patty's Friends Part 20

"Two, please. It's delightful to have some one make my tea for me, and you do it very prettily."

"But, alas!" said Patty, in mock despair, "I'll soon be supplanted here, by that 'obstinate, cross-grained' Lady Kitty."

"Why are you so sure she'll come back here to live?"

"Just give her the chance, and see," said Patty, wagging her head sagaciously, as she poured her own tea.

"How _much_ pleasanter this is than squabbling," she observed, glancing happily at her host.

"Yes, or crying," said he, a bit teasingly, and Patty blushed.

"That's past history," she said; "and _now_ I'll tell you my plan."

The details of the plan kept them both talking for some time, and then Patty had to hurry away to reach home at her appointed hour.

"Now, I won't see you again until then," she said, as they parted at the door. "But I know you won't fail me."

"Not I!" said Sir Otho, and with his hand on his heart, he made a profound bow, and Patty drove homeward in the happiest mood she had known for many a day.

CHAPTER XI

THE BIRTHDAY PARTY

Patty's birthday party was a great success.

As a rule, young people love a "dress-up" party, and the guests all entered into the spirit of the thing.

Lady Hamilton was in her element.

For the occasion, she had engaged a large salon, and aside from the pretty floral decorations, there were dolls and Teddy Bears and rocking horses, and all sorts of children's toys and games. On the walls hung bright-colored prints, intended for nursery use, and little, low chairs and ottomans stood about.

Of course, Lady Hamilton, as hostess, did not dress like a child, but wore one of her own lovely, trailing white house-gowns.

When the guests arrived they were shown to dressing-rooms, where white-capped nurses awaited them, and a.s.sisted them to lay aside their wraps.

Then led to the salon by these same nurses, the guests were presented to Lady Hamilton and Patty. Such shouts of laughter as arose at these presentations! The young people, dressed as tiny children, came in with a shy air (not always entirely a.s.sumed), and made funny little, bobbing curtseys. Some, finger in mouth, could find nothing to say; others of more fertile brain, babbled childishly, or lisped in baby-talk.

Before many had arrived, Patty and Lady Kitty were in such roars of laughter they could scarcely welcome the rest.

Tom Meredith was a dear. Though a boy nearly six feet tall, he had a round, cherubic face, and soft, curly hair. He wore a white dress of simple "Mother Hubbard" cut, the fulness hanging from a yoke, and ending just below his knees, in lace-edged frills. White stockings, and white kid pumps adorned his feet, and his short curls were tied at one side with an immense white bow. He was such a smiling, good-natured chap, and looked so girlish and sweet in his white frock, that Patty at once called him Baby Belle, and the name exactly suited him.

"Did you come all alone?" asked Lady Hamilton.

"Yeth, ma'am," replied Tom, rolling up his eyes in pretended diffidence.

"My nurthie went to a ball game, tho I had to come all by mythelf. But I'th a big dirl, now!"

"You are indeed," said Patty, glancing at his stalwart proportions, "but you're surely the belle of this ball."

Grace Meredith was a little Dutch girl, and was charming in the picturesque Holland headgear, and a tight-waisted, long-skirted blue gown, that just cleared the tops of her clattering wooden sabots. She talked a Dutch dialect, or rather, what she imagined was such, and if not real Hollandese, it was at least, very amusing and funny.

Mabel Hartley looked very sweet as Little Red Riding-Hood, and she carried a little basket on her arm, which contained a real pat of b.u.t.ter.

Sinclair and Bob Hartley were the Princes in the Tower, and the black velvet suits and white lace collars were exceedingly becoming to them.

They wore wigs of long flaxen hair, and often fell into the pose of the celebrated picture, to the delight of all who saw them. But when not posing as a tableau, they were so full of antics that Patty told them they were more like Court Jesters than Princes.

"Clowns, you mean," said Bob, as with a flash of his black satin legs he leap-frogged over Sinclair's back.

"Behave yourselves, Princes!" admonished Patty, and in a second, the two stood motionless, side by side, as in the great painting.

"You certainly must be photographed like that," exclaimed Lady Hamilton; and then a brilliant idea came to her and she sent a message at once to a well-known photographer to send one of his men and a camera at once.

And so, the regular programme of the party was suspended while photographs of the guests were taken. Singly and in groups they were snapped off as fast as the camera could be adjusted, and Lady Hamilton promised to send copies to their homes later.

Some of the young people had hired very elaborate costumes and represented celebrated works of art.

Gainsborough's "Blue Boy," and Velasquez' "Maria Teresa," were truly beautiful, while Van Dyck's "Baby Stuart," made a lovely picture. But equally interesting were the less pretentious characters and costumes.

Simple Simon was a favourite with all. A faded blue smock frock, and a battered old hat formed his characteristic garb, and long, straight yellow locks, and a stupid, open-mouthed expression of face made him look like the traditional Simon. He was a boy of much original wit, and his funny repartee proved him, in reality, far from simple-minded.

Little Miss m.u.f.fet was present, and Struwelpeter, and "Alice," and a merry brother and sister had to cut up many roguish antics before they were recognised as "The Heavenly Twins."

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary, wore a pretty Dolly Varden costume, and carried a watering-pot, while Little Boy Blue shyly blew his horn at her.

There were several Lord Fauntleroys, and Buster Browns and Rollos, and also a great many who represented n.o.body in particular, but just a dear little child.

Mr. Fairfield and Nan, though they had said they would come to the party dressed as children, had changed their minds, and arrived later than the others, wearing the garb of elderly people.

They said they were the grandparents, come to look at the children enjoy themselves.

Nan made a very sweet old lady, with white wig, and gold gla.s.ses, while Mr. Fairfield pretended to be an old man, cross and gouty. But so funny was his ferocious crustiness that n.o.body felt in awe of him.

Led by Lady Hamilton, the boys and girls played all sorts of merry children's games.

"Ring Around a Rosy," "London Bridge is Falling Down," "Hide the Thimble," and other such infantile entertainments proved exceedingly mirth-provoking. The big babies were continually crying over fancied woes, and sometimes even the historic characters grew humorously quarrelsome.

At half-past four supper was served. The children were formed in pairs for a grand march. To the strains of "The Baby's Opera" they marched to another room, where a long table was set for them.

At each place was a bread-and-milk set, and a mug which was lettered in gilt, "For a Good Child."

The mugs were especially pretty ones, and were to be taken home as souvenirs. At each place was a bib with strings, and when these were tied around their necks, the big "children" looked absurd indeed.

In keeping with their a.s.sumed roles, their table manners were not impeccable, and many fists pounded on the table, while babyish voices said: "Me wants me thupper," or "Div me some beddy-b.u.t.ter!" But though the bowls and mugs betokened infantile fare, the supper really served included dainty salads and sandwiches, followed by ices, jellies and cakes, and was fully enjoyed by the healthy appet.i.tes which belong to young people of eighteen or thereabouts.

After supper, they returned to the drawing-room for a dance.