“You look so different with your hair done up,” said Elise. “Weren’t you sorry to give up hair-ribbons?”
“Yes, I was; I hate to feel grown-up. Just think, I’ll be nineteen next May.”
“Well, May’s a long way off yet. It’s only December now. What are you going to do on Christmas, Patty?”
“I don’t know. Nan hasn’t planned yet. She waited to see her mother first. But I know Mrs. Allen will invite us to Philadelphia to spend Christmas with her.”
“You don’t want to go, do you? Can’t you spend Christmas with me, instead?”
“Oh, I’d love to, Elise! It would be lots more fun. We’ll ask father to-night. How are all the girls?”
“They’re all well, and crazy to see you. Hilda is making you the loveliest Christmas present you ever saw. But, of course, I promised not to tell you about it.”
“No, don’t tell me; I’d rather be surprised. Come on, I’m ready; let’s go down and talk to the boys.”
Patty had done up her pretty hair in the prevailing fashion of the day; but though the soft braids encircled her head, many little golden curls escaped and made a soft outline round her face. Her frock, of pale rose colour, had a collarless lace yoke, and was very becoming.
“You can wear any colour, Patty,” declared Elise. “Of course, blue is yours, by right, but you’re dear in that pinky thing.”
“Ah, sweet chub, I hoped I should be dear to thee in any old thing,” remarked Patty, as, slipping her arm through that of Elise, the two girls went downstairs.
“Ha, Patty resplendent!” exclaimed Roger, as they entered the library. “Don’t you dare to be a grown-up young lady, Patty Fairfield, or I shall cut your acquaintance.”
“Not I! Don’t be alarmed, Roger. I am still childlike and bland.”
“Your cousin Ethelyn is going to make her début next week. I have a bid to the ceremonies.”
“Yes, so have I. Well, let her ‘come out,’ if she likes. I prefer to ‘stay in’ for another year, anyway.”
“So do I,” said Elise. “Mother says I ought to come out next winter, but I’m not bothering about it yet.”
“Let’s have a good time this winter, then,” said Kenneth, “while we’re all children. If you girls come out next winter, you’ll be so gay with dances and parties, I can’t play with you at all.”
“All right,” agreed Patty. “But have you time to play, yourself, Ken? I thought you were fearfully busy absorbing the laws of the United States.”
“Oh, I do have to hammer at that all day, and some evenings, too. But it’s an unwritten law that a fellow must have some fun; so I’ll take an afternoon off now and then, to come round and tease you girls.”
Then dinner was announced and, following their elders, the young people went out to the dining-room.
“Oh, how pretty!” cried Patty, as she saw the table, for the decoration, though simple, was most effective.
Along the centre of the white cloth, lay a long bed of holly leaves, on which the word “Welcome” was outlined in holly berries.
There were no other flowers, and the glossy green and vivid scarlet made a charming centrepiece, surrounded, as it was, by dainty silver, glass, and china.
“It’s good to be here once more,” said Nan, as she took her place at the head of her own table.
“Right you are,” said Mr. Fairfield, as he sat opposite her. “Mother Allen, it was kind of you to arrange this hearty Welcome Home for us.”
“It doesn’t half express my joy at having you here again,” said Mrs. Allen, as she looked affectionately at her daughter.
Then the conversation turned upon Christmas and Christmas plans.
“I must have Nan with me at Christmas,” said Mrs. Allen. “And I shall count on Fred, also, of course. Patty, dear, I want you, too, if you care to come; but–”
“Oh, Mrs. Allen,” broke in Elise, “divide the family with me, won’t you? If you have Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield, won’t you let me take Patty?”
As Elise had hinted this to Mrs. Allen while they were at the steamer dock waiting for Patty, the good lady was not greatly surprised. And she knew that Patty would prefer to be in New York with her young friends, rather than in Philadelphia.
So it was settled that Patty should spend Christmas with Elise, much to the joy of both girls, and also to the satisfaction of the two boys.
“We’ll have a gay old time,” said Roger. “We’ll have a tree and a dance and a boar’s head,—whatever that thing is,—I never did know.”
“I don’t know either,” confessed Patty; “but we’ll find out. For we must have all the modern improvements.”
“I shouldn’t call a boar’s head a modern improvement,” said Mr. Fairfield, smiling.
“But ours will be,” said saucy Patty, “for it will be such an improvement on the sort they used to have. And we’ll have carols and waits–”
“What are waits?” said Elise.
“Why, waits,” said Patty, “don’t you know what waits are? Why, they’re just waits.”
“Oh, yes,” said Elise, “now I understand perfectly! You explain things so clearly, Patty!”
“Yes, doesn’t she!” agreed Kenneth. “Never mind, Elise, I’ll be a wait and show you.”
“Do,” said Elise, “I’d much rather see than be one. Just think, Patty, Christmas is only ten days off! Can you be ready?”
“Oh, yes,” said Patty, smiling. “Why, I could get ready for two Christmases in ten days.”
“Wonderful girl!” commented Roger. “I thought ladies were always behind time with their Christmas preparations. I thought they always said, ‘It doesn’t seem possible Christmas is so near!’ and things like that.”
“I haven’t half my presents ready,” said Kenneth, in an exaggerated feminine voice. “I haven’t finished that pink pincushion for Sadie, nor the blue bedroom slippers for Bella.”
Roger took the cue.
“Nor I,” he said, also mimicking a fussy, womanish manner. “But I never get into the spirit of the thing until near Christmas Day. Then I run round and try to do everything at once.”
“Do you tie up your presents in tissue paper and holly-ribbon?” asked Kenneth, turning to Roger as if in earnest.
“Oh, yes; and I stick on those foolish little seals, and holly tags. Anything to make it fussy and fluttery.”
“Gracious,” said Patty, “that reminds me. I suppose I must get that holly ribbon and tissue paper flummery. I forgot all about it. What do they use this year, Elise? White tissue paper?”
“No, red. It’s so nice and cheery.”
“Yes,” said Roger. “Most Christmas presents need a cheery paper. It counteracts the depressing effect of an unwelcome gift.”
“Don’t pay any attention to him,” said Elise, “he’s putting on airs. He thinks it’s funny to talk like that, but you just ought to see him on Christmas! He simply adores his presents, and fairly gloats over every one!”
“Sure I do!” said Roger, heartily. “But when you get a purple necktie, or a hand-crocheted watch-chain, it’s nice to have a cheery red paper round it.”
“Well, I have a lovely present for you,” said Patty, “but I shall take the precaution of wrapping it in red paper.”
CHAPTER