Patty Payne was Angela's balance wheel—a rudder that safely steered her through tides and winds. Patty was the complement of Angela; a perfect foil in every way. To begin with, Patty was dark. She had snapping black eyes that could grow as soft and luminous as stars under the right conditions. She had cheeks like a winter apple, so soft and ruddy were they, and she was the president of the athletic association. She adored Angela in a splendid wholesome way; respecting her talent, her amiability, her spiritual nature—qualities negligible in Patty's own make up.
Angela's and Patty's room was known, for some reason, possibly because of Angela's name and temperament, as the "Angel's Retreat."
It was in the "Angel's Retreat" at four-thirty o'clock in the afternoon after Blue Bonnet's return from Woodford, that a number of girls were gathered. The room was filled with them. They sat on the bed, on the couch, on the floor, and the topic of conversation was personal characteristics.
Sincerity had been discussed; truthfulness disposed of; jealousy and temper aired to the satisfaction of all, and courage was now under discussion.
"I haven't very many virtues," Deborah Watts was saying, trying to assume a modest attitude, and failing; "but I think I am fairly courageous—that is, I meet big things rather well: sickness and accidents and—"
"You don't look as if you'd ever been sick in your life," Blue Bonnet said.
"I haven't," Wee admitted, "but I have absolutely no fear of it—"
"Were you ever in an accident?" Patty inquired.
"No, I can't say that I ever was—but—what I mean is, I am not nervous. I haven't any fear of things happening when I'm riding, or train wrecks or—"
"How about a mouse?" Sue Hemphill inquired. "You said the other night—"