Patty's Success Part 28

"She's one of those society women who spy out what wages we pay," said Madame Villard, with conviction.

"She's not old enough for that," returned Miss O'Flynn, "but she's not looking for real work, either. I can't make her out."

"Well, we have three stunning hats, anyway. Put them in the window to-morrow. And you may as well put Paris labels inside; they have an air of the real thing."

That evening Patty regaled her parents with a truthful account of her day.

"I'm 'foiled again'!" she said, laughing. "But the whole performance was so funny I must tell you about it."

"Couldn't you have coaxed fifteen dollars a week out of her?" asked Mr.

Fairfield, after Patty had told how Madame Villard's price had gradually increased.

"Oh, father, I was so afraid she _would_ say fifteen! Then I should have felt that I ought to go to her for a week; for I may not get another such chance. But I couldn't live in that place a week, I _know_ I couldn't!"

"Why?" asked Nan, curiously.

"I don't know exactly why," returned Patty, thoughtfully. "But it's mostly because it's all so artificial and untrue. Miss O'Flynn talks as if she were a superior being; Madame Villard talks as if she were a Royal personage. They talk about their customers and each other in a sort of make-believe grandiose way, that is as sickening as it is absurd. I don't know how to express it, but I'd rather work in a place where everybody is real, and claims only such honour and glory as absolutely belong to them.

I hate pretence!"

"Good little Patty!" said her father, heartily; "I'm glad you do. Oh, I tell you, my girl, you'll learn some valuable lessons, even if you don't achieve your fifteen dollars."

"But I shall do that, too, father. You needn't think I'm conquered yet.

Pooh! What's three failures to a determined nature like mine?"

"What, indeed!" laughed Mr. Fairfield. "Go ahead, my plucky little heroine; you'll strike it right yet."

"I'm sure I shall," declared Patty, with such a self-satisfied air of complacency that both her hearers laughed.

CHAPTER XIII

THE THURSDAY CLUB

As Patty was temporarily out of an "occupation," she went skating the next day with the Farringtons and Kenneth. Indeed, the four were so often together that they began to call themselves the Quartette.

After a jolly skate, which made their cheeks rosy, they all went back to Patty's, as they usually did after skating.

"I think you might come to my house, sometimes," said Elise.

"Oh, I have to go to Patty's to look after the goldfish," said Kenneth.

"I thought Darby swam lame, the last time I saw him. Does he, Patty?"

"No, not now. But Juliet has a cold, and I'm afraid of rheumatism setting in."

"No," said Kenneth; "she's too young for rheumatism. But she may have 'housemaid's knee.' You must be very careful about draughts."

The goldfish were a never-failing source of fun for the Quartette. The fish themselves were quiet, inoffensive little creatures, but the ready imagination of the young people invested them with all sorts of strange qualities, both physical and mental.

"Juliet's still sulky about that thimble," said Roger, as they all looked into the fishes' globe. "I gave her Patty's thimble yesterday to wear for a hat, and it didn't suit her at all."

"I should say not!" cried Patty. "She thought it was a helmet. You must take her for Joan of Arc."

"She didn't wear a helmet," said Elise, laughing.

"Well, she wore armour. They belong together. Anyway, Juliet doesn't know but that Joan of Arc wore a helmet."

"Oh, is that what made her so sulky?" said Roger. "Nice disposition, I must say."

"She's nervous," put in Kenneth, "and a little morbid, poor thing. Patty, I think a little iron in the water would do her good."

"Send for a flatiron, Patty," said Roger. "I know it would help her, if you set it carefully on top of her."

"I won't do it!" said Patty. "Poor Juliet is flat enough now. She doesn't eat enough to keep a bird alive. Let's go away and leave her to sleep.

That will fatten her, maybe."

"Lullaby, Julie, in the fish-bowl," sang Roger.

"When the wind blows, the billows will roll," continued Elise, fanning the water in the globe with a newspaper.

"When the bowl breaks, the fishes will fall," contributed Patty, and Ken wound up by singing:

"And the Cat will eat Juliet, Darby, and all!"

"Oh, horrible!" cried Patty. "Indeed she won't! My beautiful pets shall never meet that cruel fate."

Leaving Juliet to her much needed nap, they all strolled into the library.

"Let's be a club," said Elise. "Just us four, you know."

"All right," said Patty, who loved clubs. "What sort of a club?"

"Musical," said Elise. "We all sing."

"Musical clubs are foolish," said Roger. "Let's be a dramatic club."

"Dramatic clubs are too much work," said Patty; "and four isn't enough for that, anyway. Let's do good."

"Oh, Patty," groaned Kenneth, "you're getting so eleemosynary there's no fun in you!"

"Mercy, gracious!" cried Patty. "_What_ was that fearful word you said, Ken? No! don't say it over again! I can't stand all of it at once!"

"Well, we have to stand you!" grumbled Kenneth, "and you're _that_ all the time, now. What foolishness are you going to fly at next, trying to earn a dishonest penny?"

"I'm thinking of going out as a cook," said Patty, her eyes twinkling.

"Cooking is the only thing I really know how to do. But I can do that."