“How nice you look,” said Patty, glancing at a pretty new frock the girl was wearing.
“Oh, I think it’s horrid,” said Lorraine, fretfully; “it’s such an ugly shade of blue and the sleeves are too big.”
“Now you see how it is, papa,” said Patty a few moments later as they seated themselves at their own table; “you heard what Lorraine said about her dress, and that’s just the way she always is. Nothing pleases her.”
“Bad case of chronic discontent,” said Mr. Fairfield, “and, I fear, incurable. I’m glad you are not like that.”
After dinner, as they often did, they paused for a few moments in the attractive hotel library. In a few moments the Harts came in, and Adelaide went directly up to Patty and said:
“Won’t you come and talk to us a little while? I want you to meet my sisters.”
Patty was quite ready to meet this cordiality half-way, and mutual introductions all around were the result.
Mr. Hart and Mr. Fairfield soon hit upon congenial topics for conversation, and Mrs. Hart proved pleasantly entertaining to Grandma Elliott.
This left the young people to themselves, and Patty found the three girls merry and full of fun.
Adelaide was about Patty’s own age, Jeannette was younger, and Editha, the oldest sister, who was eighteen, was no longer a schoolgirl. But she was not out in society, and had teachers at home in French and music.