Pattys Butterfly Days | Page 7

to help

Mona in any way, and she felt that this justified her in accepting the
offered hospitality of one whom she couldn't emulate.
Mr. Fairfield watched Patty's face closely, and knew pretty well what
sort of a mental controversy she was holding with herself. He was not
surprised when she said at last:
"Well, so far as I have a voice in this matter, I'd like to go. I think it's
very kind of Mona to ask me, and I'd try not to be a troublesome visitor.
You know, Father Fairfield, how much I would rather stay in Spring
Beach than go to the mountains. And I suppose I could take my
motor-car to Mona's with me."
"Yes, of course," Mona said. "And father says if I don't go to Europe,
he'll buy me a runabout just like yours, and we can have lovely times
going out together."
"Would your aunt come at once?" asked Nan, who wanted to know
more about the chaperon who would have Patty in charge.
"Yes, father will send for her as soon as we decide. But you know, Mrs.
Fairfield, I should keep house, as I always do, and Aunt Adelaide
would only be with us in the cause of propriety."
Nan smiled at the thought of Mona's housekeeping, for "Red
Chimneys" was so liberally provided with servants that Mona's duties
consisted mainly in mentioning her favourite dishes to the cook.
"Are you sure you could behave yourself, Patty?" asked her father,
teasingly, "without either Nan or myself to keep you in order?"
"Oh, yes," said Patty, drawing down the corners of her mouth demurely.
"In fact, as I should be on my own responsibility, I'd have to be even
more careful of my manners than I am at home."
Mr. Fairfield sighed a little. "Well, Puss," he said, "I really wanted you
with us on our trip, but as you'd rather stay here, and as this way seems
providentially opened for you, I can only say you may accept Mona's

invitation if you choose."
"Then I DO choose, you dear old Daddy!" cried Patty, making a rush
for her father, and, seating herself on the arm of his chair, she patted his
head, while she told him how glad she was of his consent. "For," she
said, "I made up my mind not to coax. If you didn't agree readily, I was
going to abide by your wishes, without a murmur."
"Oh, what a goody-girl!" said Mr. Fairfield, laughing. "Now, you see,
Virtue is its own reward."
"And I'm SO glad!" Mona declared, fervently. "Oh, Patty, we'll have
perfectly elegant times! I was so afraid you wouldn't WANT to come to
stay with me."
"Oh, yes, I do," said Patty, "but I warn you I'm a self-willed young
person, and if I insist on having my own way, what are you going to
do?"
"Let you have it," said Mona, promptly. "Your way is always better
than mine."
"But suppose you two quarrel," said Mr. Fairfield, "what can you do
then? Patty will have nowhere to go."
"Oh, we won't quarrel," said Mona, confidently. "Patty's too
sweet-tempered,--"
"And you're too amiable," supplemented Nan, who was fond of Mona
in some ways, though not in others. But she, too, thought that Patty
would have a good influence over the motherless girl, and she was
honestly glad that Patty could stay at her beloved seashore for the rest
of the summer.
So it was settled, and Mona went flying home to carry the glad news to
her father, and to begin at once to arrange Patty's rooms.
CHAPTER III

SUSAN TO THE RESCUE
The day that Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield were to start on their trip to the
mountains came during what is known as "a hot spell." It was one of
those days when life seems almost unbearable,--when the slightest
exertion seems impossible.
There was no breeze from the ocean, and the faint, languid land breeze
that now and then gave an uncertain puff, was about as refreshing as a
heat-wave from an opened furnace door.
At the breakfast table, Patty tried to persuade them not to go that day.
"You'll faint in the train, Nan, on a day like this," she said. "Do wait
until to-morrow."
"There's no prospect of its being any better to-morrow," said Mr.
Fairfield, looking anxious; "and I think the sooner Nan gets away, the
better. She needs cool, bracing mountain air. The seashore doesn't
agree with her as it does with you, Patty."
"I know it," said Patty, who loved hot weather. "Well, perhaps you'd
better go, then; but it will be just BOILING on the train."
"No more so than here," said Nan, smiling. She wore a light pongee
silk travelling gown, which was the coolest garb she could