Patty's Suitors Part 49

However, at her last word, and when Patty was just about to break into a dimpled smile, Farnsworth achieved a most dignified and conventional bow, replaced his cap, and without another glance at Patty, deliberately got into his car and drove away. He pa.s.sed Patty, continuing east, and in a few moments was lost to sight, as he flew down the road at a swift pace.

"Well!" remarked Miss Patricia Fairfield, aloud. "Well! Hooray for you, Little Billee! I didn't know you had it in you to act like that!

But"--and her face clouded a little--"I suppose your head is so full of Kitty Morton that you don't care what becomes of Patty Fairfield! H'm."

Patty sat still for some time, thinking over this new episode. She had been rude to Farnsworth, and she had done it purposely. But she was accustomed to having young men laugh at her pertness and chuckle over her sauciness.

One or two cars pa.s.sed her, but as she scrutinised the drivers, they did not seem to be just the type of whom she cared to ask help; but presently a small car came toward her, driven by a frank-looking, pleasant-faced young man.

"h.e.l.lo," he called out with the camaraderie of the road; "had a breakdown? Want some help?"

"Yes, sir," and Patty spoke in a timid, subdued voice.

"Then I'm your man," he said, as he jumped out and came over to her car. "My name's Peyton," he went on, "Bob Peyton, and very much at your service. What's the matter?"

"I don't know, sir," and Patty surrendered to a mischievous impulse; "I'm Mrs. Hemingway's maid; Mrs. Hemingway, sir, she can run the car, but I can't."

"Where is Mrs. Hemingway?"

"When the car broke down, sir, she said she would go for help. I think she went to that house over there."

"H'm! And so you're her maid. Personal maid, do you mean?"

"Not exactly, sir. I'm her new waitress, she was just taking me home, sir."

Patty didn't know why she was talking this rubbish, but it popped into her head, and the young man's eyes were so twinkly and gay, she felt like playing a joke on him. She thought he would fix her car, and then she would thank him and ride away, without having given her real name.

"Ah, my good girl," Mr. Peyton said, "and so you are a waitress. What is your name?"

"Suzette, sir. I'm French."

"Yes, I can see that by looking at you! Well, Suzerte, are you an experienced waitress?"

"Oh, yes, sir. I've worked in the best families and in,--and in hotels and--and--"

"And on oceans liners, I presume! Well, Suzette, here's a proposition.

My sister wants a waitress, awfully. Hers has just left. If you will go along with me to my sister's house, she will pay you twice what your previous mistress did."

Patty appeared to consider the question.

"Who is your sister, sir?"

"Mrs. Brewster; she lives in that next place, where you see the red brick chimneys."

Now Patty knew all about the Brewsters, although she had never met them. They were great friends of the Kenerleys, and indeed the whole house party was invited to dine at the Brewsters' the next night.

Adele, too, had spoken about Bob Brewster's brother, and Patty realised they were friends and neighbours.

In her present mood, Patty was simply aching for an escapade. And she thought it would be a pretty good practical joke if she should go to Mrs. Brewster's and pretend to be a waitress. She would telephone Adele what she was up to, and they would send another car for her that evening. Perhaps if she had thought another moment she wouldn't have done it, but on the impulse she said. "I'd love to get double wages, sir, and I will go to your sister's, but what about Mrs. Hemingway's car?"

"I will take you over to my sister's first,--it's only a short jump, and then I'll come back and see about this car."

So Patty got out of her own car and into Bob Peyton's, and in a moment they were spinning along toward the red chimneys.

The young man said not a word on the way, and Patty's spirits fell as she began to think she had undertaken a foolish prank, with no fun in it. But she realised that in her role of waitress she could not expect the young man of the house to talk to her, so she sat demurely silent, trying to look as much like a waitress as possible, and succeeding not at all.

On reaching the house, which proved to be a large and elaborate affair, Mr. Peyton drove around to a side door. He ushered Patty into a small waiting-room, and went in search of his sister. Patty heard much gay laughter from the drawing-rooms, and suddenly felt that her joke was not as funny as she had expected. But she determined to carry it a little further and see what might happen.

A charming young woman soon came to her, and said with a pleasant smile, "Is this Suzette?"

"Yes, madame," and Patty's manner was quite all that was to be desired in a waitress.

"I am Mrs. Brewster. My brother has told me the circ.u.mstances of his finding you. I am not sure that I'm doing right in taking you away from your present employer, but I'm going to be selfish enough to ask you to help me out for a short time, anyway. I have guests for dinner, and my waitress has gone. My guests are really important people and I was at my wits' end how to manage, until you appeared. If you will only stay and wait on my table at dinner, I will let you do as you choose afterwards,--return to Mrs. Hemingway or remain with me."

The plan seemed to promise some fun to Patty. She would privately telephone Adele, who would tell Jim. It was to be a joke on the rest of them, especially Kit who had said Patty could never fool him. And ever since the Belle Harcourt joke, which had not fooled Kit after all, she wanted to try again. She would make Adele pretend she thought Patty was lost, and both Kit and Philip would be greatly alarmed.

"I will stay for dinner, madame," she said, at last, "and afterward we can decide. You may not like my work."

"I'm sure I shall; you seem capable, and my brother tells me you are experienced. I fear though, your gown is a little,--a little--"

"I understand, madame. You see, this is my Sunday afternoon frock. If I stay with you, I will send for my black ones. Perhaps, if I took off the lace collar now."

"Yes, and the black bow. It is those things that make your garb inappropriate. I will, of course, provide you with an ap.r.o.n and cap.

Will you come with me now to the dining-room, and I will show you about your duties."

Mrs. Brewster gave Patty full directions about the serving of the dinner and then provided her with a cap and ap.r.o.n. The trifle of muslin and lace, when perched on Patty's gold curls, was really most becoming; and though she removed her collar and bow, the frilled bretelles of the dainty ap.r.o.n were quite as effective, and Patty looked like the kind of waitress that is seen in amateur plays.

"If not asking too much, madame," she said, "may I telephone to a friend?"

"Is it necessary?" and Mrs. Brewster looked a little surprised.

"It would be polite, I think, madame," returned Patty, with eyes cast down, "as it is to some people with whom I expected to take supper.

They will wait for me, I fear?"

"Ah, yes, Suzette, you are right. You may telephone, but I will tell you frankly, I do not like to have my servants make a practice of telephoning to their friends."

"No, madame," and Patty's tone was most humble.

To her great delight the telephone was in a small booth by itself, and Patty soon made Adele acquainted with the whole story.

Adele was not altogether pleased with the prank, but as she couldn't help herself, she accepted the situation with a good grace, and promised to send for Patty later in the evening.

CHAPTER XX

THE RIDE HOME