Though the good-natured Mancy was more than willing to help her young mistress through what threatened to be somewhat troubled waters, yet she had the more substantial portions of the dinner to prepare, and there was none too much time.
As Patty went on with her work, difficulties of all sorts presented themselves. The cream wouldn't whip, but remained exasperatingly fluid; the sugar refused to "spin a thread," and obstinately crystallised itself into a hard crust; the almonds persisted in becoming a lumpy mass, instead of a smooth paste; and the gelatine, as Patty despairingly remarked, "acted like all possessed!"
But, having attempted the thing, she was bound to carry it through, though it was with some misgivings that she finally poured a queer and sticky-looking substance into the patent freezer.
Pansy Potts had declared herself quite able to accomplish the freezing process; but, as she was about to begin, she announced in tragic tones that the extra ice hadn't come.
"Oh!" exclaimed Patty, in desperation, "everything seems to go wrong about that dessert! Well, Pansy, you use what ice there is, and I'll telephone for some more, right away."
But when Patty called up the ice company she found that their office was closed for the day, and, hanging up the receiver with an angry little jerk, she turned to find her father smiling at her.
"I see you have begun to amuse me," he said; "but never mind about my entertainment now, Puss; run away and get dressed, or you won't be ready to receive your guests. It's half-past one now."
"Oh, papa, is it so late? And I have to get into that new frock!"
"Well, scuttle along, then, and make all the haste you can."
Patty scuttled, but during the process of making all the haste she could, she very nearly lost her temper.
The new white frock was complicated; the broad white hair-ribbons were difficult to tie; and, as it was the first time that she had made a toilette in her new home, it is not at all surprising that many useful or indispensable little articles were missing.
"Pansy," she called, as she heard the girl in the dining-room, "do, for mercy's sake, come up and help me. I can't find my shoe-buttoner, and I can't button the yoke of this crazy dress without it."
Pansy came to the rescue, and just as the Elliott family came in at the front gate, Patty completely attired, but very flushed and breathless from her rapid exertions--flew downstairs and tucked her arm through her father's, as he stood in the hall.
"I'm here," she said demurely, and trying to speak calmly.
"Oh, so you are," he said. "I thought a white cashmere whirlwind had struck me. I hope you didn't hurry yourself."
"Oh, no!" said Patty, meeting his merry smile with another. "I just dawdled through my dressing to kill time."
"Yes, you look so," said her father, and just then the doorbell rang.
"Oh, papa," cried Patty, her eyes dancing with excitement, "_isn't_ it just grand! That's the first ring at our own doorbell, our own doorbell, you know; and hasn't it a musical ring? And now it will be answered by our own Pansy."
Without a trace of the hurry and fluster that had so affected her young mistress, Pansy Potts, in neat white cap and apron, opened the door to the guests.
Patty nudged her father's arm in glee, as they noted the correct demeanour of their own waitress, and then all such considerations were drowned in the outburst of enthusiasm that accompanied the entrance of the Elliotts. The younger members of the family announced themselves with wild war-whoops of delight, and the older ones, though less noisy, were no less enthusiastic.
"I like Cousin Patty's house," announced Gilbert, sitting down in the middle of the floor. "I will stay here always. Where is the Pudgy kitty-cat?"
"I'll get her for you, right away," said Patty. "She is fatter than ever; but, first, let me make grandma comfortable."
Taking Mrs. Elliott's bonnet and wraps, Patty led the old lady to a large easy-chair, and announced that she must sit there for a few moments and rest, before she made a tour of inspection around the house.
Grandma Elliott had not been allowed in the new house while it was being arranged, lest she should take cold, and so to-day it burst upon her in all its glory. By this time Frank and Marian were investigating the conservatory, and little Edith was announcing that Cousin Patty had a "Crimson Gambler."
"She means Crimson Rambler!" exclaimed Patty; "or, as Pansy calls it, 'that bunchy rosebush.'"
Although the guests had been invited to a two-o'clock dinner, yet when the clock hands pointed to nearly three, the meal had not been announced.
There was so much to be talked about that the time did not drag, but Aunt Alice looked at Patty a little curiously.
Patty caught the glance, and excusing herself, went out into the kitchen.
"Mancy!" she exclaimed; "it's almost three o'clock. Why don't you have dinner?"
"Well, honey, yo' took so much of my time mashin' your old nuts dat my work got put behind. Dinner'll come on after a while; it's mos' ready."
Patty went back to the parlour, laughing.
"If anybody can hurry up Mancy," she said, "they're welcome to try it. I didn't realise it was so late, and I'm awfully sorry; but I guess we'll have dinner pretty soon, now."
"Don't be sorry we're going to have it soon," said Frank; "none of the rest of us are, I assure you."
Although served about an hour late, the dinner was a great success. It had been carefully planned; Mancy's cooking was beyond reproach, and Pansy Potts proved a neat-handed and quick-witted, if inexperienced, Phyllis.
Encouraged by the general excellence of the courses, as they succeeded one another, Patty began to hope that her gorgeous dessert would turn out all right after all.
Seated at the head of her own table, she made a charming little hostess, and many a glance of happy understanding passed between her and the gentleman who presided at the other end.
"I say, Patty, it's right down jolly, you having a house of your own," said Frank.
"Except that we miss you awfully over home," added Uncle Charley.
"I don't see how you can," said Patty, smiling; "as I took breakfast there this morning, you haven't yet gathered round your lonely board without me."
"No, but we shall have to," said Uncle Charley, "and it is that which is breaking my young heart."
"Well, this is what's breaking my young heart," said Patty, as she watched Pansy Potts, who was just entering the room with a dish containing a most unattractive-looking failure.
"I may as well own up," she said bravely, as the dessert was placed in front of her. "My ambition was greater than my ability."
"Don't say another word," said Aunt Alice. "I understand; those spun-sugar things are monuments of total depravity."
Patty gave her aunt a grateful glance, and said, "They certainly are, Aunt Alice; and I'll never attempt one again until I've made myself perfect by long practice."
"Good for you, my Irish Pat," said Frank; "but, do you know, I like them better this way. There's an attraction about that general conglomeration that appeals to me more strongly than those over-neat concoctions that look as if they had sat in a caterer's window for weeks."
But, notwithstanding Frank's complimentary impulses, the dessert proved uneatable, and had to be replaced with crackers and cheese and fruit and bonbons.
Chapter IX.
A