Patty's Friends Part 8

"I watched him. I fully expected he'd fling them straight over Parliament House, but he didn't. He didn't even throw them on the stone floor of the Terrace, and gr-r-rind them 'neath his iron heel! I can't say that he put them in his b.u.t.ton-hole, for his back was toward me, but I _know_ he kept them."

"Oh, Patty, you are a silly! You think you've gone far toward healing the family feud of the Marklehams. But you haven't. My father gave the whole episode no thought at all, unless it was to think of you as an impertinent child."

"Well, it was a wedge," said Patty, doggedly, "and if I ever get another chance at him, I'll hammer it in."

"No, don't, Patty dear; you mean well, I know, but you don't know father's disposition. If he thought you were an intermediary, he'd be more stubborn than ever."

"Huh!" said Patty, more expressively than politely; "I'm not going to make any trouble. Trust your Aunt Patty for that!"

Lady Hamilton laughed, as she always did at Patty's funny American phrases, and the subject of Sir Otho was dropped.

"Better not mix yourself up in other people's quarrels," said Mr.

Fairfield, when Patty told him about it. "Your motive is a good one, but an Englishman is not apt to brook interference from an outsider, especially an American."

"Oh, pshaw, Fred; Patty won't do any harm," said Nan. "Patty's tact is a match for any English temper, and if she could bring about a reconciliation, I'd be so glad for that sweet Lady Hamilton."

"All right; I give in. When you two are against me, I hold up my hands."

"We're not against you, Daddy," said Patty, smiling fondly at her father.

"You're on our side, only you don't quite realise it."

"I told you she had tact," laughed Nan, "and she grows cleverer every day; don't you, Stepdaughter?"

"Yes, Stepmother," replied Patty, gazing at Nan in mock adoration; "since I have you for a model, how could I do otherwise?"

"You're a pair of sillies," said Mr. Fairfield, laughing at their nonsense, "and in a vain endeavour to improve your minds, I think I'll read aloud to you."

"Oh, goody!" cried Patty, for they both loved to hear Mr. Fairfield read.

"And mayn't I ask Lady Kitty to come in? She'll sit still as a mouse, I know."

"Certainly, my child; ask any one you like. If you see any people in the corridors, bring them back with you. Perhaps the elevator man will come."

"'Deed he won't be asked," said Patty, indignantly. "I just want my sweet, lovely Lady Kitty."

The sweet, lovely lady was pleased to come, and did indeed sit still as a mouse, listening to Mr. Fairfield's fine reading.

Then Patty sang one or two of her newest songs, and then Nan declared they must all go down to the Grill Room for a Welsh Rabbit.

This plan enchanted Patty, and after a moment's hesitation, Lady Hamilton agreed. So the evening proved a merry little festivity, and Patty went to bed healthily tired, but healthily happy.

Bob Hartley did not forget his promise to ask Patty to the Garden Party at Regent's Park, and Patty gladly accepted the invitation.

"The only thing that bothers me," she said to Nan, "is that the Hartleys don't seem to have much money, and at a Charity Garden Party there are so many ways to spend, that I fear I'll be a burden to them. It makes me awfully uncomfortable, and yet I can't offer to pay for myself. And with those young men present, I can't offer to pay for the whole party."

"No," agreed Nan. "But you might do something yourself. Invite them all to be your guests at some especial side-show, or booth. There are often such opportunities."

"I hope there will be. The Hartleys are a funny kind of poor. They have a good apartment in London, and their country place is fine. They have old servants, and keep a carriage, and all that, and yet they never seem to have spending money."

"English people are often like that. The keeping up of an establishment comes first with them, and little personal comforts afterward."

"That isn't my idea of economy," said Patty, decidedly; "I'd rather spend all I want on flowers and books and pretty hats, and go without a butler and a footman and even a team of horses."

"You can't judge, because you've always had whatever you want."

"Of course; because father is indulgent and has plenty of money. But if he hadn't, I'd be just as happy, living in a plainer way."

"Yes, Patty, I believe you would," and Nan looked at the girl affectionately. "Well, do your best to help the Hartleys financially this afternoon without offending them."

"Ah, that's just the trouble. They're so dreadfully proud they won't accept so much as a gla.s.s of lemonade from one who is their guest."

"Try it, and see. It may not be so difficult as you think."

So Patty went gaily off to the Garden Party. Mrs. Hartley called for her in her carriage. Mabel was with her, and they were to meet the boys at the park.

It was a beautiful drive, in the open victoria, along the busy streets of the city, and then on out to the green slopes of Regent's Park.

The portion of the park devoted to the Garden Party was gay with booths and flower-stands, tents and arbours, and catch-penny shows of all sorts.

Sinclair and Robert were awaiting them, and also another young Englishman, whom Bob introduced as Mr. Lawton. The latter was a typical Briton, with a slight drawl, and a queer-looking monocle in his right eye.

"Awfully jolly to meet you," he exclaimed, as he shook Mrs. Hartley's hand, and bowed formally to the girls.

He fascinated Patty, he was so exactly like the young Englishmen pictured in _Punch_, and she waited to hear him say "Bah Jove!" But he didn't say it, he contented himself with "My word!" by way of expletive, and though it didn't seem to mean anything, it was apparently useful to him.

"You must jolly well let me be your guide," he declared; "Mrs. Hartley and I will lead and the rest of you will follow wherever we go. First, we make the grand tour."

This meant joining a long procession that were sauntering along a board walk, on either side of which were settees filled with people.

Patty, with Sinclair, followed the leaders, and Mabel and Bob followed them.

But their progress was slow, for continually some of the party recognised friends seated alongside, and stopped to speak to them. Patty was introduced so often that she became bewildered, and soon stopped trying to remember who was who.

"You're getting jolly well f.a.gged," said Mr. Lawton, suddenly noticing her expression. "Now, we'll stop this merry-go-round and adjourn to the tea tent."

This they did, and were soon comfortably seated round a tea table.

"Great show, isn't it?" said Bob, enthusiastically. "And you haven't seen half of it yet. There's fortune-telling, and Punch and Judy, and the hat-tr.i.m.m.i.n.g contest, and I don't know what beside."

Sinclair adroitly paid the tea bill, before Mr. Lawton could do so, though the latter tried.

"Never mind, old fellow," he cried, "I'll get even with you! I hereby invite you all to supper at six o'clock."

"We're pleased to accept," said Patty, promptly; "and I hereby invite you all to the play, or whatever it is, given by the Stagefright Club. I think that's such a lovely name for a dramatic club. Can't we go at once?"

Mrs. Hartley looked a little disturbed at Patty's invitation, but did not demur, and tea being over, they all went toward the tent where the play was to be given. Patty managed to walk ahead with Mr. Lawton, this time, and when they reached the big tent, she offered him her little gold chain-purse, saying, quietly, "Won't you see to the tickets, please?"

"Trust me," said Mr. Lawton, and taking Patty's purse, he bought seats for them all. It was gracefully done, and they all went in in gay spirits and without a trace of embarra.s.sment, thanks to Patty's tact.

The play was very funny. Though only a trifling farce, it was written by professionals, for the benefit of the charity, and was played by the clever amateurs who had chosen such an odd name for their club. The situations in the play were screamingly funny, and Patty shook with laughter as she listened to the jokes and the merry by-play.