Patty's Success Part 19

"Pooh!" said Patty. "Nothing of the sort. I paid a dollar and a half for some valuable experience, and I think I got it cheap enough!"

"Yes, I suppose you did. Well, what are you going to do next? For I know you well enough to know you're not going to give up your scheme entirely."

"Indeed I'm not! But to-day I'm going to frivol. I worked hard enough yesterday to deserve a rest, and I'm going to take it. Come on, let's go somewhere nice to luncheon, and then go to a matinee; it's Wednesday."

"Very well; I think you do need recreation. I'll take you to Cherry's for luncheon, and then we'll go to see a comic opera, or some light comedy."

"You're a great comfort, Nan," said Patty. "You always do just the right thing. But you needn't think you can divert my mind to the extent of making me give up this plan of mine. For I won't do that."

"I know you won't. But next time do try something easier."

"I shall. I've already made up my mind what it's to be; and truly, it's dead easy."

"I thought your red-headed friend cured you of using slang," said Nan, smiling.

"I thought so, too," said Patty, with an air of innocent surprise. "Isn't it queer how one can be mistaken?"

True to her determination, Patty started out again the following morning to get an "occupation," as they all termed it.

Again Miller was amazed at the address given him, but he said nothing, and proceeded to drive Patty to it.

It was even less attractive than the former shop, being nothing more or less than an establishment where "white work" was given out.

"How many?" asked the woman in charge, and, profiting by past experience, Patty said:

"One dozen."

The woman took her name and address, in a quick, business-like way.

"One dollar a dozen," she said. "Must be returned within the week.

Deductions made for all imperfections."

She handed Patty a large bundle done up in newspaper, and, with flaming cheeks, Patty walked out of the shop.

"Home, Miller," she said, and though the man was too well trained to look surprised, he couldn't keep an expression of astonishment out of his eyes when he saw Patty's burden.

On the way home she opened the parcel.

There were in it twelve infants' slips, of rather coa.r.s.e muslin. They were cut out, but not basted.

Patty looked a little doubtful, then she thought:

"Oh, pshaw! It's very different from that fine embroidery. I can swish these through the sewing-machine in no time at all."

Reaching home, she threw the lap-robe over her bundle, and hurried into the house with it.

"Patty," called Nan, as she whisked upstairs to her own room, "come here, won't you?"

"Yes, in a minute," Patty called back, flying on upstairs, and depositing the bundle in a wardrobe.

She locked the door, and hid the key, then went demurely downstairs.

"Occupation all right?" asked Nan, smiling.

"Yes," said Patty, jauntily. "Good work this time; not so fine and fussy."

"Well; I only wanted to tell you that Elise telephoned, and wants you to go to a concert with her this afternoon. I forget where it is; she said for you to call her up as soon as you came home."

"All right, I will," said Patty, and she went to the telephone at once.

"It's a lovely concert, Nan," she said, as she returned. "Jigamarigski is going to sing, and afterward I'm to go home with Elise to dinner, and they'll bring me home. What shall I wear?"

"Wear your light green cloth suit, and your furs," said Nan, after a moment's consideration. "And your big white beaver hat. It's too dressy an affair for your black hat."

Apparently the "occupation" was forgotten, for during luncheon time, Patty chatted about the concert and other matters, and at two o'clock she went away.

"You look lovely," said Nan, as, in her pretty cloth suit, and white hat and furs, Patty came to say good-by.

The concert proved most enjoyable. Dinner at the Farringtons' was equally so, and when Patty reached home at about nine o'clock, she had much to tell Nan and her father, who were always glad to hear of her social pleasures.

"And the occupation?" asked Mr. Fairfield. "How is it progressing?"

"Nicely, thank you," returned Patty. "I've picked an easy one this time.

One has to learn, you know."

Smiling, she went to her room that night, determined to attack the work next morning and hurry it through.

But next morning came a note from Clementine, asking Patty to go to the photographer's with her at ten, and as Patty had promised to do this when called on, she didn't like to refuse.

"And, anyway," she thought, "a week is a week. Whatever day I begin this new work, I shall have a week from that day to earn the fifteen dollars in."

Then, that afternoon was so fine, she went for a motor-ride with Nan.

And the next day, some guests came to luncheon, and naturally, Patty couldn't absent herself without explanation.

And then came Sunday. And so it was Monday morning before Patty began her new work.

"Excuse me to any one who comes, Nan," she said, as she left the breakfast table. "I have to work to-day, and I mustn't be interrupted."

"Very well," said Nan. "I think, myself, it's time you began, if you're going to accomplish anything."

Armed with her pile of work, and her basket of sewing materials, Patty went up to the fourth floor, where a small room was set apart as a sewing-room. It was rarely used, save by the maids, for Nan was not fond of sewing; but there was a good sewing-machine there, and ample light and s.p.a.ce.

Full of enthusiasm, Patty seated herself at the sewing-machine, and picked up the cut-out work.

"I'll be very systematic," she thought. "I'll do all the side seams first; then all the hems; then I'll st.i.tch up all the little sleeves at once."

The plan worked well. The simple little garments had but two seams, and setting the machine st.i.tch rather long, Patty whizzed the little white slips through, one after the other, singing in time to her treadle.