"Oh no, dear!" said her aunt. "We must hurry away at once; you should have mentioned it before. What did you want to get?"
"Some little presents for the children," said Patty. "I've brought my purse with me."
"I am sending them a parcel to-morrow," said Mrs. Pearson, "so that will do for you as well. You shall help me to pack it if you like. Dear me, it's nearly half-past twelve already! How very annoying! Jackson must drive home as quickly as he can. I shall have to apologize to Mr. Saunders. He's always so punctual, I'm sure I shall find him in the breakfast-room when we arrive."
Patty entered the carriage in a very dejected frame of mind. It seemed so hard, when the money had been in her pocket all the morning, that she should have found no opportunity of spending it. She had wished so much to send Christmas boxes to the little ones, and though she knew her aunt's gifts would probably be much handsomer than any she could have afforded, she felt it was not at all the same as if they were her own.
"It's the first Christmas I've ever been away from home," she said to herself, "and I wanted everyone to have a remembrance from me. They'll be so disappointed, and think I've taken no trouble over them. I haven't even any cards to send them."
In spite of her efforts she could not get over her disappointment, and as she sat by the breakfast-room fire after lunch, the tears began to well up in her eyes at the thought of the delightful parcel which she had hoped by now to be packing up and despatching. Muriel, seated in the opposite armchair, was absorbed in her new story, and beyond occasionally asking Patty to poke the fire or put on more coals, took no notice of her cousin, and did not see that anything was wrong. Patty tried to fix her attention on "The Daisy Chain", which she had just begun to read, but the description of the large family made her think of her own, and she felt so wretchedly homesick and miserable that big drops blurred her eyes and fell down on to the pages of her book. She was wiping them up carefully with her pocket handkerchief when the door opened suddenly, and Cousin Horace made his appearance.
"Hello!" he cried cheerily. "I thought I should find you two in here! Muriel, Mother wants you for a minute in her bedroom."
"What for?"
"Your new dress has come, I believe."
Muriel jumped up with alacrity and went upstairs, and Horace, taking her vacant chair, stretched himself lazily, and put his feet on the fender.