Patty's Suitors

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER IV

  A PERFECTLY GOOD JOKE

  Patty decided to do nothing in the matter of meeting Kit Cameron. Shedearly loved a joke, and this seemed to her a good one. But she thoughtit would spoil it, if she made any move in the game herself. So shebided her time, and it was perhaps a week later that Marie Homer cameto call on her.

  As Marie hadn't the slightest notion that Patty was the girl her cousinhad in mind, the subject was not mentioned until just before Marieleft, when she asked Patty if she would come to her home the next weekto a little musicale.

  "Not a big party," said Miss Homer, "just a dozen or so really musicalpeople to spend the evening. And I want you to sing, if you will. Mycousin will be there,--the one who plays the violin."

  "I thought he detested society," said Patty, her eyes twinkling alittle.

  "I don't know what's come over Kit," returned Marie, looking perplexed."He's been the funniest thing of late. He has some girl in his mind--"

  "A girl!" exclaimed Patty; "I thought he scorned them."

  "Well, I can't make this out. It's awfully mysterious. I think I'lltell you about it."

  "Do," said Patty, demurely.

  "Two or three weeks ago,--in fact, it was the day after my valentineparty,--Kit asked me which of my friends had telephoned me late thenight before. You know he lives in the apartment just above ours, andit seems the wires were crossed or something, but he heard this girl'svoice, and now he insists he wants to meet her. I don't think EliseFarrington has such a fascinating voice, do you?" "Elise!" exclaimedPatty, in pretended surprise; "what has SHE to do with it?"

  "Why," explained Marie, "Elise did call me up that night, to say shehad left her scarf. But how Kit discovered that she was a red-cheekedbrunette, is more than _I_ can understand. You can't know that from avoice, now, can you?"

  "No," said Patty, decidedly, "you CAN'T!"

  "Well, then, a week or two went by, and I told Elise about this, butsomehow I couldn't manage to get them together. Every time Elise cameto our house, Kit would be away somewhere. But a few days ago I didmanage to have them meet."

  "Did you?" exclaimed Patty; "for gracious sake, WHAT happened?"

  Marie looked a little surprised at Patty's excited interest, but shewent on: "Oh, it was AWFULLY funny. Elise looked lovely that day. Shehad just come in from skating, and her cheeks were red and her eyessparkled, and her furs were SO becoming! I introduced Kit, and I couldsee he admired her immensely. There were several people there, so Ileft these two together. They were getting on famously, when Kit saidto her, 'Are you still a Captive Princess?'

  "I didn't know what he meant, and Elise didn't either, for she lookedperfectly blank, and asked him why he said that. And Kit told her sheknew well enough why he said it, and Elise thought he must be crazy.However, they got along all right until Kit asked me to get Elise tosing. Now, you know Elise doesn't sing much; she has a nice littlecontralto voice, but she never sings for people. But do you know, shewas perfectly willing, and she sang a little lullaby or something likethat, rather sweetly, _I_ thought. But such a change came over Kit'smanner! I don't know how to express it. He was polite and courteous, ofcourse; but he seemed to have lost all interest in Elise."

  "But your cousin IS a sort of a freak, isn't he?" said Patty, who wasdeeply interested in Marie's story.

  "Why, no, he isn't a freak. He's a musician, but he's an awfully nicechap, and real sensible. He hates society as a bunch, but he oftenlikes an individual here and there, and when he does he can be awfullynice and friendly. But this whole performance was so QUEER. He wantedto meet Elise, and when he did, he admired her, I could see that; butwhen she sang, the light all went out of his face, and he lookedterribly disappointed. The girl isn't a great singer, but why in theworld should he expect her to be, or care so much because she isn't?"

  "It IS strange!" murmured Patty; "how did Elise take it?"

  "Oh, I don't think she minded much; she thinks the boy half crazy,anyway; asking her if she was a captive princess! And, of course, hedidn't let HER see that he was disappointed in her voice. But I knowKit so well, that I can tell the moment he loses interest in anybody.I'm awfully fond of Kit,--we've grown up more like brother and sisterthan cousins."

  "What's he like? Has he any fun in him?"

  "Well, he loves practical jokes,--that is, if they're not mean. Hecouldn't do a mean or unkind thing to anybody. But he likes anythingout of the ordinary. Escapades or cutting up jinks. He andBeatrice,--that's my younger sister,--are always playing tricks on us,when she's at home. But it's always good-natured fun, so we don't mind.Oh, Kit's a dear; but you never can tell whether he's going to likepeople or not. He likes so very few."

  "But he liked Elise?"

  "Oh, yes; in a general way. But, for some reason I can't make out, hewas terribly disappointed in her."

  "And he's going to play at your musicale?"

  "Yes; and I want you to sing. We have two or three other musicians, andit will really be rather worth while."

  Patty hesitated. If she went to this party, and met Kit, all themystery of her little romance with him would be ended. He would be moredisappointed in her than he had been in Elise, for at least sheconformed to his favourite type of beauty, and Patty was quite thereverse. She could sing, to be sure, but probably her voice would notcharm him, when robbed of the glamour lent by the telephone.

  "Oh, DO say yes," Marie urged; "it will be a nice party, and if I'veleft out any people you specially want, I'll invite them."

  But Marie's list included all of Patty's set, and as she rather wantedto go, she finally decided to say yes.

  "Good for you!" exclaimed Marie; "now I know the party will be asuccess!"

  "You always say that to me," said Patty, laughing. "_I_ don't makeparties a success."

  "Yes, you do," said Marie, in a tone of firm conviction; "you're sonice, and pretty, and smiling, and always seem to have such a goodtime, that it makes everybody else have a good time."

  "What do you want me to sing?"

  "I don't care at all. Make your own selections. I like you best, Ithink, in some of those sweet, simple ballads."

  "I rarely sing anything but ballads or simple music," said Patty, "myvoice isn't strong enough for operatic soaring."

  "Well, sing what you like, Patty, if you only come," and Marie wentaway, greatly elated at having secured Patty's consent to sing at hermusicale.

  Patty at once went to the piano, and began to look over her music. Shesmiled as she came across "Beware," but she concluded that would not dofor a regular program, though she might use it as an encore.

  She made her selections with care, as she honestly wanted to do creditto Marie's musicale, and then, taking several pieces of music, she ranup to Nan's room to ask her final judgment in the matter.

  "You'll have a lot of fun out of this, Patty," said Nan, laughing, asshe heard the whole story. "When is it to be?"

  "Friday night. Do you know, Nan, I'd like to play a joke on that boy,between now and then."

  "I think you are playing a joke on him,--and, besides, he isn't a boy."

  "No; Marie says he's about twenty-four. He's a civil engineer, besidesbeing a musician. But, anyway, I've got him guessing. I'm glad Elisedidn't take it to heart, that she wasn't the right girl,--but Mariesays Elise thinks he's a freak, anyway. And, too, I believe he's notvery nice to girls as a rule, so of course Elise won't want him. Oh,_I_'M the only girl in the world for him!"

  Patty pirouetted about the room on the tips of her toes, waving a sheetof music in either hand.

  "What a silly you are, Patty, with your foolishness!"

  Patty dropped on one knee at her stepmother's side, and clasping herhands, looked up beseechingly into the smiling face over her.

  "But you love silly, foolish little girls, don't you, Nancy Nan?"

  "Yes, when they're you," and Nan patted the shining head at her knee.

  "Well, very few of them ARE me!"

  "Thank goodness for that! I don'
t know what I'd do if you were a half adozen!"

  "You'd have just six times as much fun in your life!" and Patty jumpedup and began to sing the songs she had brought.

  Then together they decided on the ones she should sing at the musicale.

  Although Patty's voice was not very strong, it was sweet and true andhad been carefully cultivated. She sang with much charm, and her musicalways gave pleasure. She never attempted anything beyond her powers,and so her songs, while selected with good taste, were not pretentious.

  That evening, while Patty was fluttering around her room, pretending toget ready for bed, but really dawdling, she was moved to telephone onceagain to the young man who was fond of jokes.

  "It's you, is it?" he almost growled, in response to her call.

  "Yes," said Patty, in a meek little voice; "shall I go away?"

  "Great jumping cows! NO! Don't go away, stay right where you are!"

  "But I'm going away for ever," said Patty, moved by a dramatic impulse;"my captors have found out that I'm holding communication with you, andthey're going to take me away to another castle, and imprison me there."

  "Stop your fooling; I want to know who you are, and I want to know itquick! Do you hear THAT?"

  "Yes, I hear," returned Patty, saucily, "but I don't have to answer!And if you talk to me like that, I shall hang up this receiver."

  "I won't talk like that any more. But, do you know, I thought I hadfound you, and you turned out to be somebody else."

  "But I can't be anybody else. I'm only myself."

  "Be serious a minute, won't you? I went to my cousin's and met abeautiful, poppy-cheeked princess; but she wasn't you."

  "How do you know she wasn't?"

  "Because she couldn't sing a LITTLE bit! And you can."

  "I can sing a LITTLE bit! Oh, thank you!"

  "Now, I want to ask you something. You know my cousin, don't you?"

  "Have you sisters and cousins, whom you reckon up by dozens?"

  "It doesn't matter if I have. I mean my cousin, Marie Homer, to whomyou telephoned, or tried to, on the fourteenth of February. But you gotme, instead, and that means we're each other's valentine. See?"

  "No, I don't see at all. I only like pretty valentines."

  "Oh, I'm as pretty as a picture! That part is all right. Now, I'vetried my best to find out who you are, from Marie. But either she can'tor won't tell. But I've found out one thing, for certain. You're NOTMiss Farrington."

  "No, I'm not; but I never said I was."

  "I know you didn't, but you told me you were a pretty brunette, withpoppy cheeks,--and Miss Farrington is that."

  "Did I tell you I was PRETTY? Oh, I'm SURE I didn't!"

  "You didn't have to. I know that myself. Now, if you'll keep still aminute, _I_'D like to speak."

  "If I can't talk, I may as well hang up this receiver, for I'm sure Idon't want to sit here and listen to you."

  "Chatterbox! Now, listen; Marie is having a musicale next Friday night,and I want you to come."

  "Without an invitation!" Patty's voice sounded horrified.

  "Yes;" impatiently. "Marie would invite you fast enough if she knew whoyou were."

  "Perhaps she HAS invited me."

  "No, she hasn't; I saw her list. It's a small party, not more thantwenty. And I asked her about each one, and not one of the ladiesseemed to correspond to your description."

  "Who's going to sing?" asked Patty, calmly.

  "Only two ladies; a Miss Curtiss and a Miss Fairfield."

  "Perhaps I'm one of those."

  "No; I asked Marie, and she says Miss Fairfield is a pretty littleblonde, and Miss Curtiss is a tall, brown-haired young woman."

  "Don't you know either of these ladies?"

  "No; that is, I've never seen Miss Curtiss, but Marie says I met MissFairfield one day, for a moment."

  "Don't you remember her?"

  "Hardly; she seemed an insignificant little thing."

  "Pretty?"

  "How do I know! She was all wrapped up in motor togs, and acted like agawky schoolgirl."

  "She did! Why, _I_ know that Fairfield girl, and she isn't gawky a bit!She's a fascinating blonde."

  "No blonde can fascinate ME! MY girl is a poppy-cheeked brunette, andI'm going to catch her before long. Ah, DO come to Marie'sparty,--won't you?"

  "I've never yet gone where I wasn't invited, and I don't propose tobegin now. But if you can get Marie to invite me, I'll go."

  "Don't be so cruel! I can't do more than I have in the matter. I'veteased Marie to death over this thing, and she can't think who you canbe, unless you're a Miss Galbraith. You're not, are you?"

  "Gracious, no! I'm not Mona Galbraith!"

  "I knew you weren't; Marie says SHE can't sing. Oh, dear, you're aperfect torment! Pretty princess,--pretty Princess Poppy-cheek, WON'Tyou take pity on your humble slave and adorer, and tell me your name?"

  "No; but I'll tell you what I will do. I'll send you my photograph."

  "Oh, you heavenly angel! You dear, beautiful princess! When will yousend it? Don't wait for the morning; call a messenger, and send itto-night!"

  "I'll do nothing of the sort. I'll send it to-morrow morning,--bymessenger, if you like,--and if you'll promise not to ask the messengerwho sent it."

  "I'll promise that if you so ordain. I guess I can play cricket!"

  "All right then; now listen, yourself. I shall send you three pictures.You pick out the one you think I am, and take it to Marie, and if youare right, she'll invite me. She knows me well enough, but she can'trecognise me from your description."

  "I don't think it's fair for you to play that way; but I'm dead sure Ican pick out your picture from the three."

  "All right then; good-night!" And Patty hung up the receiver with asnap.

  Then she lay back in her big chair and indulged in a series of giggles.

  "Sam Weller says," she said, to herself, "that the great art of letterwriting is to break off suddenly and make 'em wish they was more,--andI expect that applies equally well to telephoning."

  And she was quite right, for the impatient young man at the other endof the wire was chagrined indeed when the connection was cut off. Hewas too honourable to use any forbidden means of discovering Patty'sidentity, and so would not ask to see any telephone records, and wasquite willing to promise not to quiz a messenger boy. And so, he coulddo nothing but wait impatiently for the promised photograph.

  Meanwhile Miss Patricia Fairfield was looking over her portraitcollection to see what ones to send. She had a box full of oldphotographs, but she wanted to select just the right ones.

  But at last she tumbled them all on the table in a heap, and wiselydecided to leave the decision till morning.

  And so it happened, that when Nan came to Patty's room next morning, asshe often did, she found that coquettish damsel, sitting up in bed,wrapped in a blue silk nightingale, and with a flower-decked lace capsomewhat askew on her tumbled curls.

  Her breakfast tray sat untouched on its little stand, while on thecounterpane were spread out some twoscore portraits of more or lessbeautiful maidens.

  "What ARE you doing?" said Nan; "playing photograph solitaire?"

  "I'm playing a game of photographs," said Patty, raising a pair ofsolemn blue eyes to Nan, "but it isn't exactly solitaire."

  "You needn't tell ME! You're cutting up some trick with that new man ofyours." And Nan deliberately brushed away some pictures, and sat downon the side of the bed.

  "You're a wizard!" and Patty gazed at her stepmother. "You could havemade your fortune, Nan, as a clairvoyant, telling people what they knewalready! But since you're here, DO help me out." And Patty told Nan thescheme of the three photographs.

  Now, Nan was only six years older than Patty herself, and she enteredinto the joke with almost as much enthusiasm as the younger girl.

  "Shall you send one of your own, really?" she inquired.

  "No; I think not. But I want to get three different types, just to foolhim."
/>   After much consideration the two conspirators selected a picture of adark-eyed actress, who was pretty, but of rather flashy effects. Nextthey chose a picture of an intellectual young woman, with no pretensionto beauty or style, and whose tightly drawn black hair and stiff whitecollar proclaimed a high brow. It was a picture of one of the girls inPatty's class, who had been noted for her intellect and her lack of asense of humour.

  "He'll know that isn't you, Patty," said Nan, objecting.

  "No," said Patty, sapiently; "he's pretty clever, that young man, andprobably he'll think I'm just that sort. Now for the third, Nancy."

  It took a long time to select a third one, for Nan was in favour of apretty girl, while Patty thought it would be more fun to send a plainone.

  At last they agreed on a picture of another of Patty's school friends,who was of the willowy, die-away kind. She was a blonde, but of a pale,ashen-haired variety, not at all like Patty's Dresden china type. Thepose was aesthetic, and the girl looked soulful and languishing.

  "Just the thing!" cried Patty. "If he thinks I look like THAT, I'llnever speak to him again!"

  And so, amid great glee, the three pictures were made into a neatparcel, and addressed to Mr. Christopher Cameron.

  "Now, for goodness' sake, Patty, eat your breakfast! Your chocolate isstone cold. I'll go down and call a messenger and despatch thisprecious bundle of beauty to its destination."

  "All right," returned Patty, and, with a feeling of having successfullyaccomplished her task, she turned her attention to her breakfast tray.