She put her little fat hand up to her lips. “Honest, I’m trying not to giggle so much,” she said, “but I just can’t help it! When I’m happy, I have to chuckle, and that’s all about it.”
“Giggle all you like, my dear,” said Nan, “I’m glad to hear it. There’s so much sadness in the world, that a truly merry laugh like yours is infectious and does us all good. Now, make yourself at home, Helen, and don’t mind it if I seem to neglect you. I’m not really going to do that, but I do have an awful lot to see to,——”
“Oh, I know, Nan. And Patty has, too. But I’ll be a help, not a nuisance,—you see if I’m not. Why, Patty Fairfield! you said he was little!”
The original of the photograph she had seen, strode into the room and when Helen saw big Bill Farnsworth, she knew Patty had chaffed her.
Farnsworth went to Patty and grasped both her hands in his.
“All right?” he said, looking deep into her blue eyes.
“All right,” Patty returned, with an answering gaze, and so true was the sympathy between them, that a sort of telepathic message was exchanged and further words were unnecessary.
Then Farnsworth turned to greet Nan, and to be presented to Miss Helen Barlow.
“She told me you were little!” Helen exclaimed, looking at the broad-shouldered giant who faced her.
“Not quite that, I think,” Bill smiled at her, “Patty probably called me Little Billee, which is her pet name for her lord and master!”