Patty and Azalea. Wells Carolyn
she's an angel. But a bit unfledged, as yet."
"Of course. But such a darling! By the way, I'm her godfather."
"Oh, are you? Then I'll be her godmother! She ought to have both."
"Certainly. Though I think I heard that Miss Gale has the position."
"Of course she has! That girl appropriates everything! I think she's too fresh!"
"You mean that for a compliment, I'm sure. Yes, she is,—she's like a dewy daisy—"
"Dewy daisy, nothing! She isn't so childlike as she wants to appear!"
"There now, Elise, don't talk like that! It doesn't sound pretty,—and goodness knows you've no reason to be jealous."
"What?" asked Elise, already mollified.
"Why, you, with your established place in this household, and in our set,—mustn't stoop to be—jealous—of a little schoolgirl!"
"Oh, I'm not! How dare you hint it?"
"Then don't act so. Take my advice, Lisa, and don't show even the appearance of that sort of thing. It reacts,—you know."
Elise did know,—she knew Chick was telling her the truth, and telling it, too, only in the kindest spirit of real friendship.
She bit her lip in annoyance, and said, sharply, "Don't abuse the privilege of an old friend, Chick."
"I don't mean to,—honest I don't, Elise. Forgive me if I've offended you."
"Oh, you haven't. That's all right. Have you ever met this Gale girl before?"
"No; but she sat next me at dinner, and she told me about herself. It seems she has a wonderful brother—"
"She has!" It was amazing how Elise brightened up. "Why wasn't he invited this evening?"
"He's away from home just now,—will return next week,—I think she said.
Get on your warpaint and feathers! See, the conquering heroine comes!"
"Stop teasing, Chick. I do like to meet strangers, and if Patty's neighbour is attractive—"
"Patty's neighbour's brother,—you mean?"
"I do! If he's attractive, it'll add to my pleasure when visiting
Patty,—won't it?"
"It sure will,—and, may I say it? You'll add to his pleasure, I've no doubt."
"Very pretty, Chick. You are a nice boy."
"Thank you, ma'am. But I won't be in it, when the brother appears on the scene, I fear! So, to make hay while the sun shines, won't you go in and dance with me? I hear the light fantastics tripping in the hall."
They went in and found all of the party keeping time to the gay music of the big victrola, and they joined the swaying couples.
As they passed Betty Gale and Van Reypen, Elise overheard her saying,
"You're awfully good to me,—and you've only just met me to-night!"
Phil's reply was lost as they danced away, but Elise realised that it was an eager expression of his desire that they should meet again, and soon, and her demon of jealousy once more up-reared his ugly head.
But she concealed it,—outwardly, at least,—and when the time came, she was so cordial and sweet to Miss Gale that a friendship pact was sealed between them.
CHAPTER IV
A NEW RELATIVE
May came in with the sunshine and balmy days that are popularly supposed to belong to that month, but which do not always materialise.
Wistaria Porch was fairly basking in the sunshine, and the flower gardens were already showing their early blooms. The tulip beds were a blaze of bright glory and hyacinths and daffodils added their sweetness and beauty.
"Such a heavenly place!" Patty exclaimed as she and Little Billee strolled along the garden paths in the late afternoon. "I'm glad we have this week-end to ourselves,—I love to have guests, but once in a while,—you know—"
"I do know!" declared Farnsworth, "and I'd be willing to have 'em twice in a while—"
"Have what?"
"Week-ends alone with you! Oh, I like company, too,—have all you want, but now and then—just now and then, a family party looks good to me! Where's our blessed child at the moment?"
"She ought to be here,—it's time. Winnie usually brings her for her afternoon visit to her proud parents. And here she comes! Here's mudder's own Poggly-woggly Pom-pom head!"
"What delightful names you invent! Let me have a try at it! Here's
Fodder's own Piggly-winktum! There, how's that?"
"Perfectly horrid! Sounds like a pig!"
"All right, let's try again. Who's the airiest, fairiest, tiny mite? Who's the pinky-goldiest Smiley-eyes in the whole world? Here she is!" and big Bill took the baby, from nurse's arms, and flung her high in the air, catching her deftly on her descent, while Patty held her breath in apprehension. She knew perfectly well Bill wouldn't let the child fall,—and yet, accidents had occurred,—and the crowing baby might squirm out of the watchful father's arms.
But no accident happened and the two had their usual afternoon romp.
Little Fleurette knew her father and adored the big, comfortable man who held her so firmly and tossed her up so delightfully.
"Now, it's my turn,—give her to me," said Patty, at last. Then Bill deposited the child in her mother's arms, and the little one nestled there contentedly. She was a good baby, and rarely cried or fretted. Healthy and strong, she bade fair to become a fine big woman some day, and Patty's leaping mind had already planned out her whole lifetime!
"I think I'll send her to the Mortimer School," she said, musingly.
"Why, that's a finishing school!" exclaimed Bill, knowing of the fashionable establishment.
"Yes; I mean when she's ready to be 'finished,'" said Patty, calmly. "Before that, she'll go to Kindergarten,—and some other school, I suppose."
"I suppose she will; but we'll have a few years of her company here, at home, won't we, before her schooldays begin?"
"Yes, of course, we're having them now. But they go so fast! Oh, Little Billee, all the days fly so fast,—I can't realise we've been married nearly two years—"
"Nonsense! A year and nearly two months—"
"Well, it soon will be two years! I never saw the time fly so! It goes like a Bandersnatch!"
"Does that mean you're so happy, Patty?"
"It means exactly that! Oh, I want to live forever! I am so happy! I didn't know life with you and Fleurette would be so beautiful as it is!"
"Is it, dearest? I'm so glad," and the big man looked at his dainty, sweet little wife with his whole soul in his fine clear blue eyes.
"Your eyes are wonderful, Billee, dear," said Patty, meeting his glance lovingly; "did your mother have blue eyes,—or your father?"
"Both of them did. I was thought to look more like mother, as a kiddy,—but they were both fair haired and blue eyed."
"You never knew your mother much, did you?"
"No, she died when I was very small. And father, when I was about ten.
Then, as I've told you, I lived four years with Aunt Amanda—"
"In Arizona?"
"Yes; in a small settlement,—hardly even a village,—called Horner's
Corners."
Patty laughed. "What a darling name! How could anybody call a place that! Suppose it had grown to be a large city."
"Then they would probably have changed the name. Perhaps they have already done so,—I haven't heard from there for years."
"Why