“No, 'ndeed,” Patricia agreed.
“Well, Aunt Matilda said she wouldn't let me wear anything flighty, so she's made me a dress like a Puritan, and my domino is tan color.”
Arabella's curiosity forced her to tell all that Patricia longed to know, because she was simply wild to visit the conservatory, and find out what it was that Patricia could show.
With vows of secrecy they parted, Patricia walking slowly homeward; Arabella running all the way.
“Aunt Matilda'll say something, I guess, when she sees me,” she whispered as she ran, “First thing she'll ask where I've been, and oh, I never thought to take those horrid pills! The bottle is in my pocket, and I've eaten candy and ice cream! It's lucky she don't know that; if she did she'd say, 'I shouldn't wonder if that child had fits before morning!' She don't know it, and p'r'aps I won't have the fits.”
[CHAPTER VIII]
THE PARTY
Lights blazed from every window of the stone house, the great garden was brilliantly lighted, even the twinkling stars overhead seemed brighter than usual, as if they knew of the party, and were laughing as they watched the little guests arriving.
Lightly they stepped from their carriages, and flew up the steps as if their feet had wings.
What was their surprise to see the manservant, at the door as usual, to be sure, but in a fine old suit of livery that made him look like an English serving-man of many, many years ago.