“Of course you may. There’s nothing underhanded about my determination. If I can win you from him, it’ll be done fairly, and in that case, Bill’s own sense of justice would make him willing to give you up.”
“Little Billee give me up! Willingly? Nevaire!”
“He would, Patty, if you told him yourself that you loved me more.”
“Oh, that! But I’ve no expectation of ever doing that.”
“Who can say? You’re a fickle little thing, you know——”
“Indeed I’m not!”
“Yes, you are, and always have been. You’re fond of Bill just now, because he’s been doing the caveman act, carrying you off from the Blaney party, and such things, but you’ll soon tire of him,——”
“Stop, Philip! I won’t listen to such talk.”
Patty put her hands over her ears and pouted. It was nearing twilight of an afternoon in late January, and the two were in the library of the Fairfield home. Patty had become engaged to Farnsworth while on a visit to Adele Kenerley, and had but lately returned from there.
This was her first interview with Philip since her engagement, and she had dreaded it, for she knew Phil’s stubborn and persistent nature would not tamely submit to an end of his hopes. Patty had firmly resolved that if Philip insisted on telling her of his love for her, she would refuse to see him at all; but her gentle heart could not let her summarily dismiss him. She temporised, not because she cared for him, or had the least thought of disloyalty to Farnsworth, but because she couldn’t bear to hurt him by forbidding him to come to her home.