“I do think waiting for a steamer is the horridest, pokiest performance in the world! You never know when they’re coming, no matter how much they sight them and signal them and wireless them!” Mrs. Allen was not pettish, and she spoke half laughingly, but she was wearied with her long wait for the Mauretania, in which she expected her daughter, Nan, and, incidentally, Mr. Fairfield and Patty. “There, there, my dear,” said her husband, soothingly, “I think it will soon arrive now.” “I think so, too,” declared Kenneth Harper, who was looking down the river through field-glasses. “I’m just sure I see that whale of a boat in the dim distance, and I think I see Patty’s yellow head sticking over the bow.” “Do you?” cried Mrs. Allen eagerly; “do you see Nan?” “I’m not positive that I do, but we soon shall know, for that’s surely the Mauretania.” It surely was, and though the last quarter hour of waiting seemed longer than all the rest, at last the big ship was in front of them, and swinging around in midstream. They could see the Fairfields clearly now, but not being within hearing distance, they could only express their welcome by frantic wavings of hands, handkerchiefs, and flags. But at last the gangplank was put in place, and at last the Fairfields crossed it, and then an enthusiastic and somewhat incoherent scene of reunion followed. Beside Mr. and Mrs. Allen and Kenneth Harper, Roger and Elise Farrington were there to meet the home-comers, and the young people seized on Patty as if they would never let her go again. “My! but you’ve grown!” said Kenneth, looking at her admiringly; “I mean you’re grown-up looking, older, you know.” “I’m only a year older,” returned Patty, laughing, “and you’re that, yourself!” “Why, so I am. But you’ve changed somehow,—I don’t know just how.” Honest Kenneth looked so puzzled that Elise laughed at him and said: “Nonsense, Ken, it’s her clothes. She has a foreign effect, but it will soon wear off in New York. I am glad to see you again, Patty; we didn’t think it would be so long when we parted in Paris last Spring.” “No, indeed; and I’m glad to be home again, though I have had a terribly good time. Now, I suppose we must see about our luggage.” “Yes,” said Roger, “you’ll be sorry you brought so many fine clothes when you have to pay duty on them.” “Well, duty first, and pleasure afterward,” said Kenneth. “Come on, Patty, I’ll help you.” “Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Allen, “must we wait for all this custom-house botheration? I’m so tired of waiting.” “No, you needn’t,” said Mr. Fairfield, kindly. “You and Nan and Mr. Allen jump in a taxicab and go home. I’ll keep Patty with me, and any other of the young people who care to stay, and we’ll settle matters here in short order.” The young people all cared to stay, and though they had to wait some time, when at last they did get a customs inspector he proved to be both courteous and expeditious. “Oh, don’t spoil my best hat!” cried Patty, in dismay, as he laid thoughtless hands on a befeathered creation. “That I won’t, ma’am,” was the hearty response, and the hat was laid back in its box as carefully as an infant in its cradle. “I have ladies in my own family, ma’am, and I know just how you feel about it.” “I’m perfectly willing to declare all my dutiable goods,” went on Patty, “but I do hate to have my nice things all tumbled up.” “Quite right, ma’am, quite right,” amiably agreed the inspector, who had fallen a victim to Patty’s pretty face and bright smiles. “Well, you did get through easily, Patty,” said Elise, after it was over and the trunks despatched by express. “When we came home, mother was half a day fussing over customs.” “It’s Patty’s winning ways as does it,” said Kenneth. “She hypnotised that fat inspector with a mere glance of her eye.” “Nonsense!” said Patty, laughing; “it’s an easy trick. They’re always nice and kind if you jolly them a little bit.” “Jolly me,” said Kenneth, “and see how nice and kind I’ll be.” “You’re kind enough as you are,” returned “That’s easy,” said Roger. “I’ll perch outside with the chauffeur.” “No, let me,” said Kenneth. But after a good-natured controversy, Roger won the day, and climbed into the front seat. Mr. Fairfield, Kenneth, and the two girls settled themselves inside, and off they started for the Fairfields’ home in Seventy-second street. “I don’t see much change in the old town,” remarked Patty, as they neared the Flatiron. “You don’t, eh?” observed Kenneth. “Well, there’s the Metropolitan tower,—I guess you’ll say that’s pretty fine, if you have seen the Campanile in Venice.” “But I didn’t,” returned Patty. “I was too late for the old one and too soon for the new. But is this a Campanile, father? What is a Campanile, pure and simple?” “A Campanile ought always to be pure and simple, of line,” said Mr. Fairfield; “but if you mean what is it specifically, it’s a bell tower. Listen, you’ll hear the quarter-hour now.” “Oh, what lovely chimes!” cried Patty. “I’ve moved enough for a while, my child; if I once get seated at my own fireside, I shall stay there.” “How Christmassy things look,” went on Patty, gazing out of the cab window. “It’s only the middle of December, but the streets are crowded and there are holly wreaths in some of the windows.” “You won’t have to buy many Christmas presents, will you, Patty?” said Elise. “I suppose you brought home enough Italian trinkets to supply all your friends.” “Yes, we did,” laughed Patty. “I daresay my friends will get tired of busts of Dante, and models of the Forum.” “Don’t give those to me. If you have a Roman scarf nobody else wants, I’ll thank you kindly.” “All right, Elise; I’ll remember that. And if I haven’t, I daresay I can buy one in the New York shops.” “Wicked girl! Don’t attempt any such deception on your tried and true friend. Oh, Patty, do you remember the day we got lost in Paris?” And then the two girls plunged into a flood of reminiscences that lasted all the way home. “Come in? of course we’ll come in!” said Roger, as he assisted them from the cab, and Patty graciously invited him. “That’s what we’re here for! We’re all coming in, and if we’re heartily urged, we may stay to dinner.” In reality, Mrs. Allen, who was temporarily hostess in her daughter’s house, had invited Kenneth and the two Farringtons to dine, in order to make a gay home-coming for Patty. Very cosy and attractive the house looked, as, after more than a year’s absence, Patty once again stepped inside. It had been closed while Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield were away, but a few days before their return, Mrs. Allen, Nan’s mother, had come over from Philadelphia and opened the house and made it cheery and livable. A bright fire glowed in the library, flowers were all about, and holly-wreaths hung in the windows. “It’s good to be home again,” said Patty, as she sank into an easy-chair and threw aside her furs. “It’s good to have you here,” responded Elise. “I’ve missed you terribly.” “Me, too,” said Roger, while Kenneth added, “So say we all of us.” Always a favourite, wherever she went, Patty was specially beloved by her young friends in New York, and so the reunion was a happy one to all concerned. Before dinner was announced, Patty flew up to her own room to change her travelling costume for a pretty little house-dress. “Come on, Elise,” she said, and soon the two girls were cosily chatting in Patty’s dressing-room. “You look so different with your hair done up,” said Elise. “Weren’t you sorry to give up hair-ribbons?” “Yes, I was; I hate to feel grown-up. Just think, I’ll be nineteen next May.” “Well, May’s a long way off yet. It’s only December now. What are you going to do on Christmas, Patty?” “I don’t know. Nan hasn’t planned yet. She waited to see her mother first. But I know Mrs. Allen will invite us to Philadelphia to spend Christmas with her.” “You don’t want to go, do you? Can’t you spend Christmas with me, instead?” “Oh, I’d love to, Elise! It would be lots more “They’re all well, and crazy to see you. Hilda is making you the loveliest Christmas present you ever saw. But, of course, I promised not to tell you about it.” “No, don’t tell me; I’d rather be surprised. Come on, I’m ready; let’s go down and talk to the boys.” Patty had done up her pretty hair in the prevailing fashion of the day; but though the soft braids encircled her head, many little golden curls escaped and made a soft outline round her face. Her frock, of pale rose colour, had a collarless lace yoke, and was very becoming. “You can wear any colour, Patty,” declared Elise. “Of course, blue is yours, by right, but you’re dear in that pinky thing.” “Ah, sweet chub, I hoped I should be dear to thee in any old thing,” remarked Patty, as, slipping her arm through that of Elise, the two girls went downstairs. “Ha, Patty resplendent!” exclaimed Roger, as they entered the library. “Don’t you dare to be a grown-up young lady, Patty Fairfield, or I shall cut your acquaintance.” “Not I! Don’t be alarmed, Roger. I am still childlike and bland.” “Your cousin Ethelyn is going to make her dÉbut next week. I have a bid to the ceremonies.” “Yes, so have I. Well, let her ‘come out,’ if she likes. I prefer to ‘stay in’ for another year, anyway.” “So do I,” said Elise. “Mother says I ought to come out next winter, but I’m not bothering about it yet.” “Let’s have a good time this winter, then,” said Kenneth, “while we’re all children. If you girls come out next winter, you’ll be so gay with dances and parties, I can’t play with you at all.” “All right,” agreed Patty. “But have you time to play, yourself, Ken? I thought you were fearfully busy absorbing the laws of the United States.” “Oh, I do have to hammer at that all day, and some evenings, too. But it’s an unwritten law that a fellow must have some fun; so I’ll take an afternoon off now and then, to come round and tease you girls.” Then dinner was announced and, following their elders, the young people went out to the dining-room. “Oh, how pretty!” cried Patty, as she saw the table, for the decoration, though simple, was most effective. Along the centre of the white cloth, lay a long bed of holly leaves, on which the word “Welcome” was outlined in holly berries. There were no other flowers, and the glossy green and vivid scarlet made a charming centrepiece, surrounded, as it was, by dainty silver, glass, and china. “It’s good to be here once more,” said Nan, as she took her place at the head of her own table. “Right you are,” said Mr. Fairfield, as he sat opposite her. “Mother Allen, it was kind of you to arrange this hearty Welcome Home for us.” “It doesn’t half express my joy at having you here again,” said Mrs. Allen, as she looked affectionately at her daughter. Then the conversation turned upon Christmas and Christmas plans. “I must have Nan with me at Christmas,” said Mrs. Allen. “And I shall count on Fred, also, of course. Patty, dear, I want you, too, if you care to come; but——” “Oh, Mrs. Allen,” broke in Elise, “divide the As Elise had hinted this to Mrs. Allen while they were at the steamer dock waiting for Patty, the good lady was not greatly surprised. And she knew that Patty would prefer to be in New York with her young friends, rather than in Philadelphia. So it was settled that Patty should spend Christmas with Elise, much to the joy of both girls, and also to the satisfaction of the two boys. “We’ll have a gay old time,” said Roger. “We’ll have a tree and a dance and a boar’s head,—whatever that thing is,—I never did know.” “I don’t know either,” confessed Patty; “but we’ll find out. For we must have all the modern improvements.” “I shouldn’t call a boar’s head a modern improvement,” said Mr. Fairfield, smiling. “But ours will be,” said saucy Patty, “for it will be such an improvement on the sort they used to have. And we’ll have carols and waits——” “What are waits?” said Elise. “Why, waits,” said Patty, “don’t you know what waits are? Why, they’re just waits.” “Oh, yes,” said Elise, “now I understand perfectly! You explain things so clearly, Patty!” “Yes, doesn’t she!” agreed Kenneth. “Never mind, Elise, I’ll be a wait and show you.” “Do,” said Elise, “I’d much rather see than be one. Just think, Patty, Christmas is only ten days off! Can you be ready?” “Oh, yes,” said Patty, smiling. “Why, I could get ready for two Christmases in ten days.” “Wonderful girl!” commented Roger. “I thought ladies were always behind time with their Christmas preparations. I thought they always said, ‘It doesn’t seem possible Christmas is so near!’ and things like that.” “I haven’t half my presents ready,” said Kenneth, in an exaggerated feminine voice. “I haven’t finished that pink pincushion for Sadie, nor the blue bedroom slippers for Bella.” Roger took the cue. “Nor I,” he said, also mimicking a fussy, womanish manner. “But I never get into the spirit of the thing until near Christmas Day. Then I run round and try to do everything at once.” “Do you tie up your presents in tissue paper and holly-ribbon?” asked Kenneth, turning to Roger as if in earnest. “Oh, yes; and I stick on those foolish little seals, and holly tags. Anything to make it fussy and fluttery.” “Gracious,” said Patty, “that reminds me. I suppose I must get that holly ribbon and tissue paper flummery. I forgot all about it. What do they use this year, Elise? White tissue paper?” “No, red. It’s so nice and cheery.” “Yes,” said Roger. “Most Christmas presents need a cheery paper. It counteracts the depressing effect of an unwelcome gift.” “Don’t pay any attention to him,” said Elise, “he’s putting on airs. He thinks it’s funny to talk like that, but you just ought to see him on Christmas! He simply adores his presents, and fairly gloats over every one!” “Sure I do!” said Roger, heartily. “But when you get a purple necktie, or a hand-crocheted watch-chain, it’s nice to have a cheery red paper round it.” “Well, I have a lovely present for you,” said Patty, “but I shall take the precaution of wrapping it in red paper.” |