Patty's Butterfly Days Part 31

Farnsworth looked at her, squarely. "I'll forgive you, Daisy," he said, "if you'll make good. Let Patty take the Spirit of the Sea part, and you take something else."

"I won't do it," said Patty, quickly, but Daisy said, "Yes, you must. I shan't feel that you've really forgiven me unless you do."

As a matter of fact, Daisy saw little prospect of pleasure for herself in being Spirit of the Sea, after all this, and she doubted whether Bill would be Neptune if she did.

Patty demurred further, but both the others coaxed so hard that she finally yielded to their persuasions.

"What will the others say?" she asked, at last.

"Nothing at all," responded Bill, promptly. "Simply announce that you and Daisy have agreed to change parts. Then Daisy can be 'Maid of the Mist,' and you can be the Water Sprite of old Neptune's float."

"I'll do it, on one condition," said Patty; "and that is, that no one else is let into our secret. Let Guy continue to think that I sent him that note, but that I changed my mind about it. And don't tell anybody at all, not even Mona, the truth of the matter."

"Gee! You're a wonder!" exclaimed Farnsworth, and Daisy threw her arms round Patty's neck and kissed her.

"Oh, don't give me undue credit," Patty said, laughing; "but, you see, I just naturally hate a 'fuss,' and I want to forget all about this affair right away. Daisy, you're just the sort of brown hair and eyes Mr. Cromer wants for his Maid of the Mist. You'll be perfectly sweet in that."

"You're perfectly sweet in everything, Patty; I never saw any one like you!"

"Neither did I," said Farnsworth, with emphasis.

"Oh, here you are," drawled a slow voice, and Laurence Cromer came sauntering along in search of Patty. "Don't you want to discuss your costume now? There's only a half-hour before luncheon time."

"Well, you see, Mr. Cromer," said Patty, smiling at him, "you said you wanted a more brownish lady for your misty maid. So Miss Dow and I have decided to change places."

"All right," agreed Cromer. "It makes no difference to me, personally, of course. I'm merely designing the Niagara Float as an architect would. I think perhaps a brunette would be better adapted to the part of Maid of the Mist, as I have planned it, but it's as you choose."

"Then we choose this way," declared Patty.

"Run along, Daisy, and Mr. Cromer will tell you just what to get for your misty robes."

Daisy went away, and Farnsworth turned to Patty with a reproachful glance.

"You let her off too easy," he said. "A girl who would do a thing like that ought to be punished."

"Punished, how?" said Patty, quietly.

"Her deceit ought to be exposed before the others. It oughtn't to be hushed up,--it makes it too easy for her."

"Her deceit, as you call it, affected no one but me. Therefore, there's no reason for any one else to know of it. And Daisy has been punished quite enough. I read in her eyes the sorrow and remorse she has suffered for what she did. And I know she did it on a sudden impulse,--an uncontrollable desire to have that particular part in the Pageant. Now, I have forgiven and forgotten it all, it's but a trifle.

And I can see no reason why YOU should still hold it against her."

Farnsworth looked steadily into Patty's eyes, and a sort of shamed flush rose to his cheeks.

"You're bigger than I am, Little Girl," he said, as he held out his hand.

Patty put her little hand into his, and in that understanding clasp, they buried the subject never to refer to it again.

"Oh, no, I'm not really bigger than you," she said, lightly.

"Not physically, no," he returned, looking down at her. "If you were, I couldn't toss you into a treetop!"

"You got out of that beautifully with Aunt Adelaide," and Patty laughed at the recollection. "But I'm going to scold you for picking me up in that unceremonious fas.h.i.+on."

"I know,--it WAS dreadful! But,--perhaps I did it on a sudden impulse,--you know,--you forgive THOSE!"

Patty remembered her defence of Daisy, and couldn't repress a smile at the boy's wheedlesome argument.

"Well, don't let it happen again," she said with an attempt at extreme hauteur.

But Farnsworth replied, "When I get a real good chance, I'm going to pick you up and carry you a million miles away."

"Catch me first!" cried Patty, and darting away from him, she ran like a deer toward the house.

Farnsworth stood looking after her, but made no move to follow.

The big fellow was thinking to himself, wondering and pondering in his slow, honest way, on why that little sc.r.a.p of pink and white humanity had all unconsciously twined herself around his very heartstrings.

"Apple Blossom!" he murmured, beneath his breath, and then sauntered slowly toward the house.

CHAPTER XVI

THE SPIRIT OF THE SEA

The night of the Pageant was as beautiful as the most exacting young person could desire. There was no moon, but there seemed to be an extra bright scattering of stars to make up for it. A soft, cool ocean breeze stirred the air, there was no dampness, and everybody p.r.o.nounced the evening as perfect as if specially made for the occasion.

An early dinner was served at "Red Chimneys," and then the guests dispersed to don their carnival costumes.

With her usual promptness, Patty was ready first, and coming down to the drawing-room, found n.o.body there. So she took opportunity to admire her own effects in the mult.i.tude of mirrors.

It was an exquisite reflection that faced her. She had not adopted Daisy's idea of fishnet, as that seemed to her too heavy. Laurence Cromer had approved of her own suggestions, and together they had designed her costume. It was of pale green chiffon, trailing away in long, wavy lines. Over it, hung from the shoulders a tunic-like drapery of white chiffon. This was frosted, here and there, with broken, s.h.i.+mmering lines of silver, and the whole effect hinted of moonlight on the sea.

Patty's wonderful hair fell in curling, tumbling ma.s.ses over her shoulders and far down her back. In it were twined a few strands of seaweed,--beautifully coloured French work, which Laurence Cromer had procured from somewhere by a very special order. Across the top of her head a silver band confined the riotous curls, and from it, in the centre, rose an upright silver star.

Though simple, the whole costume was harmonious and picturesque, and suited Patty's fair beauty to perfection. Her bare arms and throat were soft and rounded as a baby's, and her lovely face had a pink glow of happiness, while her eyes were like two starlit violets.

She peac.o.c.ked about the room, frankly delighted at her own reflection in the mirrors, and practised the pose she was to a.s.sume on the Float.

In the mirror she saw that a majestic figure was entering the room, and wheeling swiftly about, she beheld Father Neptune himself smiling at her.

Farnsworth had sent to a theatrical costumer in the city for his garb, and very handsome he looked in a dark green velvet robe that hung in cla.s.sic folds. He wore a snow-white wig and long white beard, and a gold and jewelled crown that was dazzlingly regal. He carried a trident, and in all respects, looked the part as Neptune is so often pictured. Patty gazed at him a moment in silent admiration, and then sprang to her pose, lightly poised forward, her weight on one foot, and her arms gracefully outspread.

Big Bill held his breath. Always lithe and graceful, to-night Patty looked like a veritable spirit. Her floating draperies, her golden hair, and her perfect face, crowned with the single silver star, seemed to belong to some super-human being, not to a mere mortal.