Grandma read the merry little composition, and quite agreed that it was among the best of Patty’s efforts at literature.
“Now that’s off my mind, for this week,” she said; “I do like to get it done, and then I can frisk about with a clear conscience. Now I’m going to run up to Adelaide’s for a minute, and see what she’s doing.”
Patty ran upstairs to the next floor of The Wilberforce, and rang the bell of the Harts’ apartment.
She found Adelaide also busy at work on her Theme.
“Oh, then I won’t disturb you,” said Patty; “I’ll go away until you get the old thing done, and then you come down and see me.”
“I’ll never get it done,” said Adelaide, disconsolately; “I can’t dash things off in a minute like you do; I have to grub over them, and then they’re no good. I wish you’d stay and help me.”
“All right, I will. I won’t help you enough to make it wrong, you know; suppose I just give you a subject, and a sort of an outline of the points, and then you write it all yourself.”
“Do,” cried Adelaide, eagerly; “what a comfort you are, Patty!”
Easily Patty detailed the foundation of a theme, and then while Adelaide was writing, she left her to herself and went in search of the rest of the family. She made a new bonnet for Jeannette’s doll, and listened to Editha’s new song. Then she helped Mrs. Hart arrange some flowers which had just arrived, and by that time Adelaide’s work was finished, and the two girls went off by themselves for a cosey chat.
“What do you think I heard to-day?” began Adelaide; “Flossy Fisher told me this afternoon when we were in the coat-room, getting our wraps, and I couldn’t tell you on the way home from school because Lorraine was with us. But it’s the most surprising thing I ever heard.”