“All right, papa,” said Patty, “I think it will be lovely, and I’m ready to go, right straight off. Of course I’m sorry to leave the Vernondale girls, and they’ll be as mad as hops at me for going; but I do love the city, and I think we’ll have a beautiful time. When shall we start?”
“Not to-night,” said Mr. Fairfield, smiling at his impetuous daughter; “there are some trifling details to be settled first. You see, you’re a country girl, my child, and deplorably ignorant of city ways. Has it occurred to you that it would hardly do for you and me to live alone in a city hotel? For I must necessarily be down at my office all day, and, too, I shall probably make occasional trips to Philadelphia. At such times you would be alone in our apartment, which is, of course, out of the question. Have you anything to suggest?”
“I never thought of that. I thought we could live together there just the same as we do here. You’re always away all day.”
“Yes, but here there are the three servants to look after you. And, too, conventions are not quite the same in New York and Vernondale. I don’t want a governess for you, for I want you to have the experiences of school life.”
“I might have a maid,” said Patty, anxious to suggest something. “I might take Pansy.”
“No,” said her father, “that isn’t the kind of person you require. The third person in our home must be a lady who can look after you and advise you, and occasionally go about with you.”
“Well then, marry Nan right away, and let her do all this.”
“That would do admirably, but there is one obstacle. I laid that plan before Nan herself, and she positively refused to come and be one of us before next spring.”
“Well, what can we do?” asked Patty.
“Why, I think this the solution of the problem: Let us take Grandma Elliott to spend the winter with us.”