On Saturday Patty went to Elise’s for luncheon. The Farrington carriage came for her and a maid was sent to accompany her.
Although without a shade of envy in her mind, Patty thoroughly enjoyed the ride in the luxurious carriage, with a smart and imposing coachman and footman and the trim little French maid beside her.
“I’m afraid,” she thought to herself, “that I have a love of luxury; but papa says if I’m not envious it won’t do any harm; and I’m sure I’m not.”
When they reached the Farringtons’ Elise took Patty at once to her own room. Patty was not surprised to find that this was the prettiest bedroom she had ever seen, and she fairly revelled in the beautiful furnishings and decorations.
“Oh, this room is all right,” said Elise, carelessly; “but if you want to see a really remarkable room, just step out here.”
As she spoke, Elise opened the door out to what Patty supposed was a sort of balcony or enclosed veranda at the back of the house. But it was not exactly that; it was, as Elise expressed it, “a glass room.” It was an extension of the house, and the sides and roof were entirely of glass. A clever arrangement of Japanese screens adjusted the light as desired.
“You see,” explained Elise, “I’m a sort of sun-worshipper. I never can get sunlight enough in the city, so I planned this room all myself and father had it built for me. There is an extension of the house below it and they only had to put up a sort of frame or skeleton room, and then enclose it with glass. So here, you see, I have plenty of light and I just revel in it. I call it my studio, because I paint a little; but I sit here more to read, or to chum with my friends, or just to loaf and do nothing.”
“I love sunlight, too,” exclaimed Patty, “and I think this room is wonderful. I used to have a pretty little enclosed balcony, at my aunt’s in Vernondale; but of course it wasn’t like this.”
The furniture in Elise’s studio was almost entirely of gilded wicker-work, and gilt-framed mirrors added to the general glittering effect. On the whole, Patty thought she preferred her balcony at Aunt Alice’s, but this room was very novel and interesting and far better adapted for winter weather.
“Of course there’s no way to heat it,” said Elise, “for I wasn’t going to have the glass walls spoiled with old pipes and radiators. But the sun usually warms it sufficiently, or I can leave the doors open from my bedroom.”