Rose Barrett’s husband was in a position to be informed regarding certain matters, and Rose knew, though Patty didn’t, that in all probability Farnsworth would sail the next day for France.
And by way of farewell and also, by way of introducing Patty to some friends, Rose planned rather an elaborate reception.
Helen Barlow came before dinner.
“Oh, Patsy!” she cried, in ecstasy, “I am having the grandest time! War is awful, of course, but somehow everybody who isn’t fighting, is so kind, and we’ve had wonderful experiences. I’ve been flying twice and I didn’t have to cut off my raving tresses, either! What did Bill say to scold you for going up?”
“Well, he didn’t break off our engagement,” Patty returned, smiling. “How’s Phil? Is he coming over, tonight?”
“Of course he is,—he goes wherever——” Helen stopped, blushing crimson.
“Goes wherever you do? Of course he does! How you do lead him on!”
“I don’t either! He has eyes only for you, Patty Fairfield!”
“Used to have, you mean. But that was before my enchanting cousin came on the scene.”
“Rubbish! Philip’s crazy about you, still. Your being engaged to Little Billee doesn’t prevent that.”