As Mr. Fairfield arrived at that moment, there was no occasion for further anxiety, but in response to their queries he gave them no satisfaction as to the cause of his unusual tardiness, and only smiled at their exclamations.
It was not until they were seated at the dinner table that Mr. Fairfield announced he had something to tell them.
"And I'm sure it's something nice," said Patty, "for there's a twinkle in the left corner of your right eye."
"Gracious, Patty!" cried Nan, "that sounds as if your father were cross-eyed, and he isn't."
"Well," went on Mr. Fairfield, "what I have to tell you is just this: I have arranged for the immediate future of Miss Patricia Fairfield."
Patty looked frightened. There was something in her father's tone that made her feel certain that his mind was irrevocably made up, and that whatever plans he had made for her were sure to be carried out. But she resolved to treat it lightly until she found out what it was all about.
"I don't want to be intrusive," she said, "but if not too presumptuous, might I inquire what is to become of me?"
"Yours not to make reply, yours not to reason why," said her father teasingly. "You know, my child, you're not yet of age, and I, as your legal parent and guardian, can do whatever I please with you. You are, as Mr. Shakespeare puts it, 'my goods, my chattel,' and so I have decided to pack you up and send you away."
"Really, papa!" cried Patty, aghast.
"Yes, really. I remember you expressed a disinclination to leave your home and family, but all the same I have made arrangements for you to do so. It was the detailing of these arrangements that kept me so late at my office to-night."
Patty looked at her father. She understood his bantering tone, and from the twinkle in his eye she knew that whatever plans he may have made, they were pleasant ones; and, too, she knew that notwithstanding his air of authority she needn't abide by them unless she chose to. So she waited contentedly enough for his serious account of the matter, and it soon came.
"Why, it's this way, chickabiddy," he said. "Mr. Farrington came to see me at the office this afternoon, and laid a plan before me. It seems that he and Mrs. Farrington and Elise are going to Paris for the winter, and he brought from himself and his wife an invitation for you to go with them."
"Oh!" said Patty. She scarcely breathed the word, but her eyes shone like stars, and her face expressed the delight that the thought of such a plan brought to her.
"Oh!" she said again, as thoughts of further details came crowding into her mind.
"How perfectly glorious!" cried Nan, whose enthusiasm ran to words, as Patty seemed struck dumb. "It's the very thing! just what Patty needs. And to go with the Farringtons is the most delightful way to make such a trip. Tell us all about it, Fred. When do they start? Shall I have time to get Patty some clothes? No, she'd better buy them over there. Oh, Patty, you'll have the most rapturous time! Do say something, you little goose! Don't sit there blinking as if you didn't understand what's going on. Tell us more about it, Fred."
"I will, my dear, if you'll only give me a chance. The Farringtons mean to sail very soonin about a fortnight. They will go on a French liner and go at once to Paris. Except for possible short trips, they will stay in the city all winter. Then the girls can study French, or music, or whatever they like, and incidentally have some fun, I dare say. Mr. Farrington seemed truly anxious to have Patty go, although I warned him that she was a difficult young person to manage. But he said he had had experience in that line last summer, and found that it was possible to get along with her. Anyway, he was most urgent in the matter, and said that if I agreed to it, Mrs. Farrington and Elise would come over and invite her personally."
"Am I to be their guest entirely, papa?" asked Patty.
"Mr. Farrington insisted that you should, but I wouldn't agree to that. I shall pay all your travelling expenses, hotel bills, and incidentals. But if they take a furnished house in Paris for the season, as they expect to do, you will stay there as their guest."
"Oh," cried Patty, who had found her voice at last, "I do think it's too lovely for anything! And you are so good, papa, to let me go. But won't it cost a great deal, and can you afford it?"
"It will be somewhat expensive, my dear, but I can afford it, for, as I told you, my finances are looking up. And, too, I consider this a part of your education, and so look upon it as a necessary outlay. But you must remember that the Farringtons are far more wealthy people than we, and though you can afford the necessary travelling expenses, you probably cannot be as extravagant in the matter of personal expenditure as they. I shall give you what I consider an ample allowance of pin money, and then you must be satisfied with the number of pins it will buy."
"That doesn't worry me," declared Patty. "I'm so delighted to go that I don't care if I don't buy a thing over there."
"You'll change your mind when you get there and get into the wonderful Paris shops," said her father, smiling; "but never fear, puss; you'll have enough francs to buy all the pretty dresses and gewgaws and knick-knacks that it's proper for a little girl like you to have. How old are you now, Patty?"
"Almost eighteen, papa."
"Almost eighteen, indeed! You mean you're only fairly well past seventeen. But it doesn't matter. Remember you're a little girl, and not a society young lady, and conduct yourself accordingly."
"Mrs. Farrington will look out for that," said Nan; "she has the best possible ideas about such things, and she brings up Elise exactly in accordance with my notions of what is right."
"That settles it," said Mr. Fairfield; "I shall have no further anxiety on that score since Nan approves of the outlook. But, Patty girl, we're going to miss you here."
"Yes, indeed," cried Nan. "I hadn't realised that side of it. Oh, Patty, we had planned so many things for this winter, and now I shall be alone all day and every day!"
"Come on, and go with me," said Patty, mischievously.
"No," said Nan, smiling at her husband; "I have a stronger tie here even than your delightful companionship. But truly we shall miss you awfully."
"Of course you will," said Patty, "and I'll miss you, too. But we'll write each other long letters, and oh! I do think the whole game is perfectly lovely."
"So do I," agreed Nan; and then followed such a lot of feminine planning and chatter that Mr. Fairfield declared his advice seemed not to be needed.
The next morning Nan and Patty went over to the Farringtons to discuss the great subject. They expressed to Mrs. Farrington their hearty thanks for her kind invitation, but she insisted that the kindness was all on Patty's side, as her company would be a great delight, not only to Elise, but also to the elder members of the party.
"Isn't Roger going?" asked Patty.
"No," said Mrs. Farrington; "this is his last year in college, so of course he can't leave. The other children are in school, too, so it seemed just the right year for us to take Elise abroad for a little outing. A winter in Paris will do both of you girls good in lots of ways, and if for any reason we don't enjoy it, we can go somewhere else, or we can turn around and come home, and no harm done." Although the trip seemed such a great event to Patty, Mrs. Farrington appeared to look upon it merely as a little outing, and seemed so thoroughly glad to have Patty go with them that she almost made Patty feel as if she were conferring the favour.
Elise and Patty went away by themselves to talk it all over, while Nan stayed with Mrs. Farrington to discuss the more practical details.
"I didn't care a bit about going," said Elise, "until we thought about your going too, and now I'm crazy to go. Oh, Patty, won't we have the most gorgeous time!"
"I didn't care a bit about going," said Elise, "until we thought about your going too, and now I'm crazy to go. Oh, Patty, won't we have the most gorgeous time!"
"Yes, indeed," said Patty; "I can hardly realise it yet. I'm perfectly bewildered. Shall we go to school, Elise?"
"I don't think so, and yet we may. Mother's going to take a house, you know, and then we'll either have masters every day, or go to some school. Mother knows all about Paris. She has lived there a lot. But we sha'n't have to study all the time, I know that much. We'll go sight-seeing a good deal, and of course we'll go motoring."
"I shall enjoy the ocean trip," said Patty; "I've never been across, you know. You've been a number of times, haven't you?"
"Yes, but not very lately. We used to go often when Roger and I were little, but I haven't been over for six years, and then we weren't in Paris."
"I'm sure I shall love Paris. Do you remember it well?"
"No; when I was there last I was too little to appreciate it, so we'll explore it together, you and I. I wish Roger were going with us; it's nice to have a boy along to escort us about."
"Yes, it is," said Patty frankly; "and Roger is so kind and good-natured. When do we sail, Elise?"
"Two weeks from Saturday, I think. Father is going to see about the tickets to-day. He waited to see your father yesterday, and make sure that you could go. The whole thing has been planned rather suddenly, but that's the way father always does things."
"And it's so fortunate," went on Patty, "that I hadn't started away to college or boarding-school. Although if I had, and you had invited me, I should have managed some way to get expelled from college, so I could go with you. How long do you suppose we shall stay, Elise?"
"I don't know, I'm sure. You never can tell what the Farringtons are going to do; they're here to-day and gone to-morrow. We'll stay all winter, of course, and then in the spring, mother might take a notion to go to London, or she might decide to come flying home. As for father, he'll probably bob back and forth. He doesn't think any more of crossing the ocean than of crossing the street. Have you much to do to get ready to go?"
"No, not much. Nan says for me not to get a lot of clothes, for it's better to buy them over there; and papa says I can buy all I want, only of course I can't be as extravagant as you are."
"Oh, pshaw, I'm not extravagant! I don't care much about spending money, only of course I like to have some nice things. And I do love to buy pictures and books. But we'll have an awful lot of fun together. I think it's fun just to be with you, Patty. And the idea of having you all to myself for a whole winter, without Hilda, or Lorraine, or anybody claiming a part of you, is the best of it all. I do love you a lot, Patty, more than you realise, I think."
"You've set your affections on a worthless object, then; and I warn you that before the winter is over you're likely to discover that for yourself. You always did overestimate me, Elise."
"Indeed I didn't; but as you well know, from that first day at the Oliphant school, when you were so kind to me, I've never liked anybody half as much as I do you."
"You're extremely flattering," said Patty, as she kissed her friend, "and I only hope this winter won't prove a disillusion."
"I'm not at all afraid," returned Elise gaily; "and oh, Patty, won't we have a jolly time on board the steamer! It's a long trip, you know, and we must take books to read and games to play, for as there'll probably be mostly French people on board, we can't converse very much."
"You can," said Patty, laughing, "but I'm afraid no one can understand my beautiful but somewhat peculiar accent."
CHAPTER III
SOUVENIRS
Marian came over to spend a few days with Patty before her departure. She was frankly envious of Patty's good fortune, but more than that, she was so desperately doleful at the thought of Patty's going away that she was anything but a cheerful visitor.
Although sorry for her cousin, Patty couldn't help laughing at the dejected picture that Marian continually presented. She followed Patty around the house wherever she went, or she would sit and look at her with her chin held in her hands, and the big tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Marian, you are a goose," said Patty, exasperated by this performance. "When I left Vernondale you cried and carried on just this way, but somehow you seemed to live through it. And now that I live in New York you don't see me so very often anyhow, so why should you be so disconsolate about my going away?"
"Because you're going so far, and you'll probably be drownedthose French steamers are ever so much more dangerous than the English linesand somehow I just feel as if you'd never come back."
"Well, the best thing you can do then is to change your feelings. I'll be back before you hardly realise that I'm gone; and I'll bring you the loveliest presents you ever saw."
This was a happy suggestion of Patty's, for Marian's tears ceased to flow and she brightened up at once.
"Oh, Patty, that is just what I wanted to talk to you about! If you are going to bring me anything in the way of a gift or a souvenir, wouldn't you just as lieve I'd tell you what I want, as to have you pick it out yourself, and likely as not bring me something I don't care for at all? Everybody who brings me home souvenirs from Europe brings the most hideous things, or else something that I can't possibly use."
"Why, Marian, dear, I'd be only too glad to have you tell me what you want, and I'll do my best to select it just right."
"Well, Patty, I want a lot of photographs. The kind we get over here are no good. But I've seen the ones that come from Paris, and they're just as different as day and night. I'd like the Venus of Milo and the Mona Lisa and the Victory andoh, wellI'll make you out a list. There are several Madonnas that I want, and several more that I DON'T want. And I do NOT want any of Nattier's pictures or a "Baby Stuart," but I do want some of Hinde's hair curlersthe tortoise-shell kind, I meanand you can only get them in Paris."
By this time Patty was shaking with laughter at Marian's list, and she asked her if she didn't want anything else but photographs and hair curlers.
"Why, yes," said Marian, astonished; "I've only just begun. You know photographs don't cost much over there, and of course the curlers won't count for a present. I thought you meant to bring me something nice."
"I do," said Patty, looking at her cousin, who was so comically in earnest. "You just go on with your list, and I'll bring all the things, if I have to buy an extra trunk to bring them in."
"All right, then," said Marian, encouraged to proceed. "I want a bead bagone of those gay coloured ones made of very small beads, worked in old-fashioned flowers, roses, you know, or hibiscusnot on any account the tulip pattern, because I hate it."
"You'd better write out these instructions, Marian, or I shall be sure to get tulips by mistake."
"Don't you do it, Patty; I'll write them all down most explicitly. And then I want a scarf, a very long one, cream-coloured ground, with a Persian border in blues and greys. But not a palm-leaf borderI mean that queer stencilled sort of a design; I'll draw a pattern of it so you can't mistake it."
"But suppose I can't find just that kind, Marian."
"Oh, yes, you can! Ethel Holmes has one, and hers came from Paris. And you've all winter to look for it, you know."
"Well, I'll devote the winter to the search, but if I don't find it along toward spring I'll give it up. What else, Marian?"
"Well, I'd like a lot of Napoleon things. Some old prints of him, you know, and perhaps a little bronze statuette, and a cup and saucer or pen-wiper, or any of those things that they make with pictures of Napoleon on. And thenoh! Patty, I do want some Cyclamen perfumery. It's awfully hard to get. There's only one firm that makes it. I forget the name, but it's Something Bros. & Co., and their place is across the Seine."