With October came school-days.
There was a fine school for young ladies in Vernondale, which Marian attended, and Aunt Alice thought it best for Patty to go too.
The cousins, who had become inseparable companions, enjoyed their school-life together, and the added duties which lessons brought, caused Aunt Alice to make Patty's household tasks rather fewer.
That lady was by no means an advocate of "all work and no play," and though some domestic duties were imposed and a cake or a dessert was taught every Saturday, yet Patty had plenty of time for amusements and plenty of amusements for her time.
One October day, Patty and Marian and two of their schoolgirl friends sat on Patty's balcony drinking afternoon tea.
It was getting late in the season to use the pretty balcony, but it chanced to be a bright, sunny autumn day, and the girls had their wraps on.
Besides, they were talking so busily, that I think they would scarcely have noticed it, had the mercury suddenly fallen to zero.
"Yes," Elsie Morris was saying, "we'll have a real literary club, and we'll have a president and constitution and everything. But don't let's have too many members. About twelve girls, I should say."
"Only girls?" said Marian, "aren't we going to have any boys? I know Frank would like to join."
"Oh, boys don't like to read," said Polly Stevens, "they're nice at parties and picnics, but we want this club to be really literary, and not just fooling."