Patty and Azalea. Wells Carolyn
look over the west glade, and see if it will stand a Japanese tea-house there."
"All right, come ahead. You've not forgotten your dinky tea-porch?"
"No; but this is different. A tea-house is lovely, and—"
"All right, Madame Butterfly, have one if you like. Come down this way."
They went along a picturesque path, between two rocky ravines,—a bit of real scenic effect that made, indeed, a fine setting for a little structure for a pleasure house of any kind.
"Lovely spot!" and Patty stood still and gazed about over her domain.
"Seems to me I've heard you remark that before."
"And will again,—so long as we both shall live! Oh, Little Billee, I'm so glad I picked you out for my mate—"
"I picked you out, you mean. Why, the first moment I saw you, I—"
"You kissed me! Yes, you did,—you bad man! I wonder I ever spoke to you again!"
"But I kissed you by mistake that time. I'd no idea who you were."
"I know it. And you've no idea who I am, now!"
"That's true, sweetheart. For you've as many moods and personalities as a chameleon,—and each more dear and sweet than the last."
"Look here, my friend, haven't we been married long enough for you to cease to feel the necessity for those pretty speeches?"
"Tired of 'em?"
"No; but I don't want you to think you must—"
"Now, now, don't be Patty Simpleton! When I make forced or perfunctory speeches, you'll know it! Don't you think so, Patty Mine?"
"Yep. Oh, Billee, look, there's the place for the tea-house!"
Patty pointed to a shady nook, halfway up the side of the ravine.
"Great!" agreed Bill. "Wait a minute,—I'll sketch it in."
He pulled an old envelope and a pencil from his pockets, and rapidly drew the location with a few hasty strokes, and added a suggestion of an Oriental looking building that was meant for the proposed tea-house.
"Just right!" cried Patty; "you are clever, dear! Now draw Baby and me drinking tea there."
A few more marks did for the tea drinkers and a queer looking figure hurrying along the path was doubtless the father coming home.
Patty declared herself satisfied and folded the paper and put it safely away in her pocket.
"We'll get at that as soon as the landscape gardener finishes the sunken garden," she said.
"Oh, I'm glad I'm alive! I never expected to have everything I wanted in the way of gardens! Don't you love them, too?"
"Of course,—and yet, not as you do, Patty. I was brought up in the great
West, you know,—and sometimes I long for the big spaces."
"Why, this is a big space, isn't it?"
"I mean the prairies,—yes, even the desert,—the limitless expanse of—"
"Limitless fiddlesticks! You can't have the earth!"
"I don't want it. You're all the world to me, then why crave the earth?"
"Nice boy! Well, as I was about to say, do you know, I think it's time we had some guests up here, just for to see and to admire this paradise of ours."
"Have them, by all means. Are you settled enough?"
"Oh, yes. And I shan't have anything much to do. Mrs. Chase is a host in herself, and Nurse Winnie takes full charge of my child,—with Susie's help."
"Do you own that infant exclusively, ma'am? I notice you always say my child!"
"As I've told you, you don't count. Why, you won't really count until the day when some nice young man comes to ask you for the hand of Mademoiselle Fleurette."
"Heaven forbid the day! I'll send him packing!"
"Indeed you won't! I want my daughter to marry and live happy ever after,—as I'm doing."
"Are you, Patty? Are you happy?"
As Billee asked this question a dozen times a day for the sheer joy of watching Patty's lovely face smile an affirmative, she didn't think it necessary to enlarge on the subject.
"I do be," she said, succinctly, and Farnsworth believed her.
"Now, I propose," she went on, "that we have a week-end house-party.
That's the nicest way to show off the place—"
"Patty! Are you growing proud and ostentatious?"
"I'm proud—very much so, of my home and my family,—but nobody ever called me ostentatious! What do you mean?"
"Nothing. I spoke thoughtlessly. But you are puffed up with pride and vanity,—I think."
"Who wouldn't be—with all this?"
Patty swept an arm off toward the acres of their domain, and smiled happily in her delight of ownership.
"Well, anyway," she went on, "we'll ask Elise and Bumble and Phil and
Kenneth and Chick and—"
"Don't get too many,—you'll wear yourself all out just talking to them."
"No: a big party entertain themselves better than a few. Well, I'll fix up the list. Anybody you want specially?"
"No, not now. Some time we'll have Mona and Roger, of course; and some time Daisy—"
"Yes, when we have Adèle and Jim. Oh, won't we have lots of jolly parties! Thank goodness we've plenty of guest rooms."
"Are they all in order?"
"Not quite. I have to make lace things and fiddle-de-fads for some of them."
"Can't you buy those?"
"Some I do, but some I like to make. It's no trouble, and they're prettier."
"Let's go back around by the garage, I want to see Larry."
They strolled around through the well-kept vegetable gardens and chicken yards, and came to the garage. Here were the big cars and Patty's own little runabout. Larry, the chauffeur, touched his cap with a respectful smile at Patty, and as Farnsworth talked to the man, Patty stood looking off across the grounds and wondering if any one in the whole world loved a home as she did.
Then they went on, strolling by the flower beds and formal gardens.
"And through the land at eve they went," quoted Bill, softly.
"And on her lover's arm she leant," Patty took up the verse.
"And round her waist she felt it fold," continued he:
"And far across the hills they went
To that new world which is the old.
And far across the dying day,
Beyond its utmost purple rim:
Beyond the night, across the day
The happy Princess followed him."
"Through all the world she followed him," added Patty; "I think our quotations are a bit inaccurate, but we have the gist of Tennyson's ideas."
"And the gist is—?"
"That I'm a happy Princess," she smiled.
"Well, you're in your element, that's certain. I never saw anybody enjoy fixing up a house as you do!"
"Did you ever see anybody fix up a house, anyway?"
"I'm not sure I ever did. I had very little home life, dear."
"Well, you're going to make up for that now. You're going to have so much home life from now on, that you can hardly stagger under it. And I'm going to make it!"
"Then it will be a real true home-made home! Sometimes, Patty, I fear that with all your tea-houses and formal gardens