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"Greatness thrust upon me!" Patty laughed, looking at the great bunch of white orchids and valley lilies, with its fluttering tendrils and ends of ribbon. "Must I really live up to this favour? Must I really be a bride myself before the year is up? Of course, if it is obligatory----"
She looked up, half shy, and caught Van Reypen's gaze upon her. She turned toward Farnsworth, but he was looking another way. Plucking one stem of lilies of the valley from the bunch she tossed it to Phil, who caught it, kissed it, and put it in his b.u.t.tonhole. Farnsworth looked round just in time to see the act, and smiled at her.
"Didn't mean anything," said Patty, perversely, and then, pulling out half a dozen more sprays, she threw them indiscriminately around, to Cameron, and several of the other ushers who were grouped about.
Farnsworth made a slight effort to catch one, but he didn't really try, and the flower fell to the floor just beyond his reach. He shrugged his shoulders slightly, but made no move to pick it up.
Just then Sam Blaney came along, and Patty offered him a flower, and herself adjusted it in his b.u.t.tonhole.
"I'm crazy to talk to you," he said, "but I didn't belong at your supper table. Can't we go somewhere and have a bit of a chat?"
"Yes," agreed Patty, "only not too far away from the bride's crowd.
Mona will be going away soon, and I must see her go, of course. Didn't she look beautiful?"
"Not in comparison with somebody else I know."
"I'm a mind reader, Mr. Blaney, and I perceive you mean me. But you're mistaken. I'm pretty, in a doll-faced way, but Mona is really beautiful."
"You know where beauty is, Miss Fairfield. In the eye of the beholder."
"Let me see. Yes," after she had looked straight into Blaney's eyes, "yes, you have beauty in your eyes."
"The reflection of your face," he replied, serenely. "You are a flower-face; I never saw any one who so well merited the term. I must write a sonnet to Flower Face."
"It can't be any better poetry than the verses you wrote to me at Lakewood. They are exquisite. Mayn't I show them?"
"Please not. I fancied you would like to keep them just for yourself.
Stay, I have a better name for you. Flower Soul, that's what you are.
That shall be the theme of my sonnet. I think your soul is made of white lilac."
"Why do you people always talk about souls?" asked Patty, gaily. "You don't mean souls really, you know; you mean--well, what do you mean?"
"No, we don't mean souls in the theological sense, we mean the higher understanding and finer sensations."
"Oh," said Patty, not much enlightened.
"And you are coming to see us soon, aren't you? Alla said you promised her you would."
"Yes, I did. And I will come. Do you have regular meetings, like a club,--or what?"
"Yes, like a club, but not on set dates. I'll let you know when the next one--or, stay, I know now. There will be a gathering at our place next Tuesday night. Will you attend? May I come and fetch you?"
"Yes, do, I'd love to be there. Gracious, here comes Mona. I must be with the others."
Patty hurried across the room to stand with the bridal attendants, and, looking very handsome in her travelling costume, Mona bade them good-bye. There was no mad scramble as the bride and groom departed, but flower petals and confetti were showered on them, which they good-naturedly allowed.
"Come along, my lady," said Roger, at last, as Mona delayed to talk to the girls.
And then they went away, and some of the guests stayed to dance a little longer.
"Come, Patty," said Van Reypen, as the orchestra struck up, "this is our dance."
Patty a.s.sented, and they went gliding over the perfect floor.
Philip said nothing while they danced, and Patty, too, was silent.
This was unusual, for Patty generally chattered as she danced.
"Tired, dear?" said Philip, at last.
"A little. It has been a long evening."
"And a strenuous one. I saw you were getting weary as you stood in that line of receiving so long. Come, let us sit down."
Philip guided her to a pleasant settee, screened by tall palms, and seated himself beside her.
"Poor little girl," he said, "you're all done up. You must go home soon, Patty. You can't dance any more tonight."
"Oh, yes, I can. I'm not really tired. It's more excitement and----"
"And nerves. I know,--Mona getting married means a lot to you. You're very intimate friends, aren't you?"
"Yes; and as she has no mother, Nan and I have tried to do all we could for her, but she is so capable, we couldn't do much, after all."
"No; I suppose not. Patty, why did she give you her bouquet? I thought brides threw them, and any one caught them that could."
"They do, usually."
"Well, then, why didn't Mona?"
"Oh, because,--oh, I don't know."
"You do know, Patty. Was it because she thinks you will be the next bride of your set? Because she thinks you will marry--me?"
Phil's eyes were radiant, and his voice trembled as he whispered, "And will you, dear? Will you, my little Patty? You promised, you know, to tell me tonight. So, tell me,--and tell me,--yes."
Patty sat up very straight and looked at him. "Philip," she said, and her voice was serious; "if I have to decide now, it will be No. I did say I'd tell you tonight, and I meant to, but I'm all tired and bothered, and if I'm not careful, I shall cry! So, if you hold me to my promise, I'll answer you now, but it will be No. I can't say Yes,--tonight."
"Then don't say anything. I'll wait, dearest. Oh, Patty, of course, I'll wait. You are exhausted and nervous and you want to rest. Don't answer me now, dear, for I don't want that answer you spoke of! Let's wait a week or so longer, and then make up our mind. Shall us?"
"Yes, Phil, and thank you for being so good to me."
CHAPTER XI
THE CITY STUDIO
"I'm quite anxious to see this paragon of a poet," said Nan, as she sat in Patty's room one evening.