  “And I went up in an aeroplane,” Patty said, looking squarely into Bill’s blue eyes. They stood in the pretty little drawing-room at Rose Barrett’s. Farnsworth had just come, hastening to see Patty, on her arrival in Washington. He held Patty’s two hands in his own, and after a deep gaze into the troubled eyes lifted to his, he said: “Who tricked you into it?” “Oh, Little Billee, how did you know that was the way it happened?” “Why, it couldn’t happen any other way. You promised me you wouldn’t, and so you must have been coerced or tricked into it.” “Just what I was!” and Patty described the whole performance. Farnsworth shuddered as she told of her hair getting caught in the piston, and drew her closely to him. “Oh, my darling,—my blessed little girl, how can I go off and leave you? In these times nobody is safe from dangers! But you’ll never even run such a chance again, will you?” “Of course not. I’ve had my lesson!” “And a severe one. Why, the shock might have made you ill.” “It did, nearly. But I had to stay on deck till I could see you, and tell you about it. And then, I didn’t have to tell you! You knew yourself! How did you understand so perfectly and so quickly?” “Patty, you and I are—well, I can’t think of the perfect English word. The French would say en rapport, the Italians would say simpatica. But we are—at one, is perhaps the best phrase. We shall always be so. It’s utter trust, you know, and absolute faith in each other. Isn’t it, my girl?” “Yes, dear,” and Patty laid her hand caressingly on the khaki-clad shoulder of the big man, as she gave him a smile of perfect confidence. “Oh, my Little Billee, I don’t want you to go away from me. I’ve just begun to realise what losing you will mean to me.” “Perhaps it won’t be for long, dearest. Things look a little as if I may make only a short trip, and return soon with my reports.” “Ahem!” said a voice loudly and repeatedly outside the half-closed door. “May I come in?” “Come along, Rose,” laughed Patty. “I’ll share my last interview with you!” “Oh, Captain Farnsworth isn’t going right off, is he?” “No, not today,” returned Bill. “But of course, there’s no telling how soon it may be.” “I want you tonight for a little party,” Rose went on. “I find I can get Lieutenant Van Reypen and Helen Barlow over and I’m asking a few more. I think in these days of unrest we must have a bit of relaxation when we can.” “I’m with you,” said Farnsworth, heartily; “I can come, I’m sure, unless something sudden and unexpected turns up. Count on me, Mrs. Barrett. But I must run away now, for I’ve an immediate appointment.” “Isn’t he a darling!” Rose exclaimed, as she and Patty watched the military figure stride down the street. “Oh, he is! Sometimes I fear I’m not grateful enough for the love and devotion of such a wonderful man!” “Naughty girl! ‘Down on your knees, and thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love,’ as Friend Shakespeare puts it. Now, run away and get a beauty-nap, so you’ll be chipper tonight. I’m going to have quite a party, I can tell you!” Rose Barrett’s husband was in a position to be informed regarding certain matters, and Rose knew, though Patty didn’t, that in all probability Farnsworth would sail the next day for France. And by way of farewell and also, by way of introducing Patty to some friends, Rose planned rather an elaborate reception. Helen Barlow came before dinner. “Oh, Patsy!” she cried, in ecstasy, “I am having the grandest time! War is awful, of course, but somehow everybody who isn’t fighting, is so kind, and we’ve had wonderful experiences. I’ve been flying twice and I didn’t have to cut off my raving tresses, either! What did Bill say to scold you for going up?” “Well, he didn’t break off our engagement,” Patty returned, smiling. “How’s Phil? Is he coming over, tonight?” “Of course he is,—he goes wherever——” Helen stopped, blushing crimson. “Goes wherever you do? Of course he does! How you do lead him on!” “I don’t either! He has eyes only for you, Patty Fairfield!” “Used to have, you mean. But that was before my enchanting cousin came on the scene.” “Rubbish! Philip’s crazy about you, still. Your being engaged to Little Billee doesn’t prevent that.” “It means nothing to me,” declared Patty; “my sweetheart hath my heart and I have his, so, Phil may come and Phil may go, but we go on forever!” “You’re poetic today! I hear Bill sails soon.” “Dunno. That’s as may be. Oh, Bumble, don’t let’s think of it!” Patty’s eyes filled with tears, and Helen regretted her chance allusion. “Never mind, Pattikins, you must remember what it means to be a soldier’s sweetheart, and bid him good-bye, with ‘Colours flying for Victory, For the Flag and the Girl back home!’ That’s the way to look at it!” “Yes, that’s all very well for you,—you’re not the Girl.” “And then, he’ll return with colours still flying, to the Girl back home, and then it will be June and the wedding bells will ring, and the birds will sing and the orange bloomers bloom and the khaki on the groom and the veil on Patty-Pat, and I’ll wear a posy hat——” “Oh, Helen, hush!” cried Patty laughing at the foolish chatter as Bumble danced about the room, waving her arms as she sang. “But, truly, Patsy, you won’t have more’n time to get your gewgaws fixed up and your monogramming done, before Bill will be back again, and it will be June. Oh, soon! It will be June! and to this tune,—Tum, tum, te-tum!” Helen sang the first strains of the wedding march, and Patty ran out of the room laughing, as Rose called her to the telephone. It was Farnsworth speaking. “Angel child,” he said, “can you leave whatever you’re doing and do a little errand for your own true Loved One?” “Can I!” returned Patty. “Your word is my law!” “Goody girl! Well, then, go with all possible secrecy,—with bated breath and muffled tread, and all that, to my rooms at Mrs. Richards’——” “What!” “Even so. Don’t faint, but remember you’re a soldier’s bride,—or will be some day,—and defying conventions go to said rooms on an errand for me. Will you, Patty?” Bill’s tone changed to a serious note, and Patty knew at once it was one of those important matters with which she was sometimes entrusted. “Of course I will. Tell me exactly what to do.” “Go there, as soon as you can, and tell Mrs. Richards who you are. She will take you to my rooms, and from the top drawer of my chiffonier get a large white envelope,—not the blue one,—that’s tucked half under a pile of handkerchiefs. Take it back to Rose’s with you, and I’ll send there for it. See?” “Yes, my liege lord, and I fly to obey. Oh, I just love to do such things for you, Billy-Boy!” “Cut along, then, and don’t let the grass grow under your tiny buckled slippers. Bye-bye.” So Patty “cut along,” Mrs. Barrett being more than willing to lend her car, and soon the house was reached. Mrs. Richards heard Patty’s request and at once took her up to Farnsworth’s rooms. “There you are, Miss Fairfield,” she said, “there’s the chiffonier. Help yourself. My, but there’s a lot of secret errand work going on. I don’t know how Captain Farnsworth gets into a day’s work all he has to do! I should think he’d be worn out, and I rather think he is.” While the lady rattled on, Patty opened the designated drawer and quickly found the envelope in question. About to close the drawer again, her eye was caught by a packet of letters tied with blue ribbon. Struck by the sight of such unofficial-looking documents in Bill’s possession, she glanced curiously at the outside one. It had no envelope and in a feminine handwriting she saw the words, “Oh, you dear, splendid big hero, how I do love you!” Hastily realising what she was doing, she pushed the drawer shut and declared herself ready to go. “Got what you want?” asked Mrs. Richards, pleasantly. “Sorry Lena isn’t home. My daughter, you know. She’d so love to see you, she’s just crazy to meet Captain Farnsworth’s lady-love. Lena’s a bit jealous of you, too! She thinks the Captain’s about the most wonderful man on earth! Mind the steps. This hall’s a bit dark.” Soon Patty was rolling off toward the Barrett house. Her heart was in a turmoil. What did that packet of blue-tied letters mean? They were no government documents, of that she was sure. They might be cipher letters or code affairs, and really be of military matters after all. She tried to think this, but circumstantial evidence was too strong. The girlish writing, the words addressed to the big hero, the blue ribbon,—all seemed to say that Bill had had letters from somebody,—and poor Patty fell a victim to the green-eyed monster, and jealousy gnawed at her heartstrings. The messenger came and Patty gave him the important envelope, feeling a pride in her ability to help, yet still downcast about the blue ribboned packet. When Farnsworth arrived at the party that night, Patty determined to ask him to explain. She had had half a dozen minds about the matter, first decided to make no mention of it, then concluding she could never be happy again until she had heard his confession or defence. Perhaps some infatuated little goose had written to him,—and, perhaps he had never even answered her. But then, why keep them so carefully and so sentimentally? In a dainty fluffy white frock, Patty awaited Farnsworth’s coming. The party was a large one, but in the Barrett house were many alcoves and nooks where one could hold a tÊte-À-tÊte. And so, it was in one of these that Bill finally found his disconsolate little love. “Hello, Sweetness,” and the familiar voice reached her ears just before Farnsworth strode into view. With a quick glance around, he took her in his arms for a swift, silent kiss. “Oh, be careful!” breathed Patty. “Some one will see us!” “Not so; I reconnoitred first. And how is my Posy Blossom?” “All right,—that is, ’most all right,——” and Patty looked doubtfully at the loving face bending above her own. “Out with it,—what’s the trouble?” “N-nothing.” “Which, being interpreted, means something pretty awful! Don’t try to fool me, Pattibelle! Have you been flying again?” “No;” and then Patty gave a long, steady look into Farnsworth’s blue eyes. What she saw there was so reassuring, so absolutely all-powerful to clear away her troubles, that she laughed outright and said: “Oh, you dear, splendid old thing, you! I’m not worthy of you!” “That, my child, is the one thing I won’t allow you to say, and unless you retract it, there’ll be grave trouble with tumultuous consequences. Do you take it back?” “I can’t——” “You’d better,” and Patty saw from Bill’s smile that unless she did he would indeed bring about some “tumultuous consequences.” “All right,—I do,” she said, hastily, as he prepared to swoop her into his arms. “That’s not enough. Say, ‘I am far too good for you.’” “Oh! I can’t!” “Say it!” The commanding officer conquered, and unable to avoid the issue, Patty said, in a meek little voice, “I’m far too good for you.” “Of course, you are! Now, what’s this other matter, and then we can go out to the party proper. I’m afraid they’ll come after us if we don’t.” “It’s nothing,” and Patty faced him squarely, and beamed into his wondering face. “Yes, I mean that. But I’ll tell you. I saw a packet of love letters in your chiffonier, and I just want to tell you that I know it’s all right, and I’m—n-not jealous! I am not!” “Oh, you Blossom-faced little goose! Oh, Patty Precious, thank you for dem kind woids! Those letters, as you so sapiently assume, are not of a nature to rouse your jealousy.” And he told her what they were and of Lena’s request to leave them there for a time. “And I forgot all about them,” he concluded his tale, “nor would I have expected you to doubt my faithfulness and loyalty if you did see them.” “I didn’t,” said Patty happily. “No, you didn’t, but it was a narrow squeak!” But Patty only smiled at him, and they both knew that neither had reason to doubt the other in any way. The party went off gaily. But though no hint was dropped, somehow there was a feeling in the air as of a farewell occasion, and Patty felt a vague unrest. But it was the next day before she learned the truth. In the morning Farnsworth came to the Barrett house and the moment Patty saw him, she knew he had come to say good-bye. With a white face and trembling lips she met him at the door. “Come for a walk, will you, dear?” Farnsworth said gently. She ran for her wraps, and soon they were off by themselves. Unheeding the people in the streets, they wandered far off toward the less crowded areas, and after a time Farnsworth told her that he was to sail that night. “It’s all right,” said Patty, bravely struggling to keep back her tears. “I’ll be good,—I won’t make it harder for you by weeping and wailing and gnashing my teeth,—but, oh, my Little Billee,—I think I shall die!” “Really, Patty! Do you really care like that?” “Oh, I do! I do! I didn’t know it myself till just this minute! Captain, my Captain, I can’t part from you.” “You needn’t, Blossom Bride, you shall go with me!” Patty looked up in amazement, and saw in Farnsworth’s eyes a look she had never seen before. He seemed almost transfigured, the joy fairly radiated from his countenance. “Patty,” he whispered, “the reason I was going without you was because I didn’t think you loved me quite well enough to go too. Do you?” They had paused, and stood facing each other, with quickly beating hearts. There were no passers-by, and the sun shone straight down on Patty’s face, as she looked up at his question. She knew all it meant, all it implied, and with a firm voice that had a glorious, triumphant ring in it, she said, “I do, my Heart’s Dearest, I do.” “Then——” Farnsworth hesitated. “Yes, yes,” Patty assured him. “You’ll go with me!” “Yes, to the ends of the earth!” “Patty!” “Little Billee!” And right there, in broad daylight, he clasped her in his arms and gave her a kiss that sealed the compact once and for all. “We must hop around,” he said, laughing for very joy. “Oh, Patty, we must skittle!” “We will! We can do it. I don’t care for anything but to go with you,—always with you. Are you sure I may go?” “Oh, yes, I looked out for that.” “What! You expected me to?” “I hoped, Patty, I only hoped. Now I’ll get you back to Rose’s and you and she fix up the wedding-bells. I’ll breeze in about seven with the minister. Can’t get things fixed before that. Darling! I’m crazy! You won’t change your mind—no, I know you won’t, my true, my loyal Patty Blossom!” There was some scurrying about when Patty told Rose. That efficient young woman telephoned for caterers, florists and musicians. She called up friends and invited them. She gave orders right and left, and harangued Patty in the meantime. “Go for a rest first,” she said. “Go straight to your room and lie down. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Helen will help you dress.” And right here for about the first time in her life Bumble showed efficiency. “Yes,” she said, “I will. Come along, Patty, and take it easy. There’s lots of time before seven o’clock, and you’ve nothing to do but dress. Come along with your old reliable,—your standby, the steady-going Bumble.” Relieved to get away from Rose’s fluster and hurry, Patty went with Helen. “I’ve got to do it, Bumble,” she said, as if by way of apology. “I can’t stay here and let him go away, so I’m going, too——” “Sure you are,” and Helen nodded, understandingly. “And, oh, by the way, Patty, where’s your wedding gown?” “That’s so! Where is it?” and Patty began to look over her frocks in the wardrobe. “This rose-coloured one, I think.” “Nixy; white, if it’s only a tub frock! Let’s see your white ones. Ah, here we are!” Helen took down a white chiffon, daintily embroidered, and pronounced it the very thing. Patty dressed at once, saying laughingly that Bill might make an even earlier start than now planned. And just as the bride-to-be completed her toilette, a commotion down stairs announced the arrival of her father and Nan. “What are you doing here?” she cried, in amazement. “We’re here for your wedding, my little girl,” said Mr. Fairfield, taking her in his arms. “But—how did you know? How did you get here so quickly?” “Ask Bill,” said Nan, laughingly; and then others crowded in, and all was bustle and excitement. At seven, Farnsworth came, looking stunningly handsome in his uniform and with a glow of happiness on his fine, kindly face. “Are you sure, Patty?” he whispered, as he met her in the hall. “Sure, Little Billee,” she answered, happily. “And you don’t regret the gorgeous wedding you were planning for June?” “I like this better,” she said, simply. And indeed, as a wedding, the occasion was all that could be desired. As if by magic, flowers had bloomed everywhere. Guests in festal garb had arrived, and at last, to the soft strains of some stringed instruments, Patty walked with her father to meet the man to whom she so willingly and gladly entrusted her life’s happiness. Then the guests crowded about with gay greetings and good wishes. “I shall miss you, Patty,” said Phil Van Reypen, his face clouded at the thought. “Good for you, Philip, do, please! But let me tell you a great secret; something you don’t dream of,—yet.” Patty smiled mysteriously, and whispered low, in Philip’s ear: “Your girl is waiting for you. She doesn’t know it,—you don’t know it,—but I do! When I come back from France—I hope everybody will know it!” Van Reypen looked a little self-conscious, but gaily protested he didn’t know what she was talking about. And then, the time came to go. Like a dream, Patty saw the people all about; saw herself being whisked upstairs and put into a travelling gown; saw Nan and Helen packing things; saw a maze of faces, a whirl of good-byes—and then,—she was alone with Farnsworth in a motor-car—and they were rolling away, as the jubilant orchestra played “For the Flag and the Girl Back Home.” “How did Father and Nan get there?” Patty asked, as she emerged from her husband’s first embrace. “I sent for ’em. Telephoned early this morning, and they just made it.” “Early this morning! You hadn’t asked me to go, then!” “Took a chance.” “Oh, Little Billee! You knew I’d go?” “Yes, My Little Girl, I knew you’d go. I learned yesterday that you loved me—almost enough. So I sent for your people, in case my hopes proved true, and today you found out that you couldn’t get along without me.” “Well. You are——” “What?” “My lord and master, it would seem,” and Patty’s lovely face flushed with happiness and content. Farnsworth drew her close as he whispered: “And you are my Patty Bride!” THE END |
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