“You’re right, Mr. Herron,” and Patty laughed at his graphic description, which was greatly aided by his dramatic imitation of a nervous knitter. “But Mrs. Doremus didn’t even do that. Nor did she say anything about it,—which was queer, I think.”
“Yes, it was queer,” agreed Helen, “though I hadn’t thought of it before. Oh, Patty! This cream cake is a dream!”
“A dream cake?” suggested Philip, “a cream cake dream cake,—well, what I noticed especially about our friend and benefactor, was her shoes.”
Herron looked up quickly.
“No lady would wear shoes like those!” Van Reypen asserted.
“I didn’t see them,” said Patty, “her dress was so long. Queer, to have such very long skirts, nowadays.”
“No lady would wear such a long skirt,” Van Reypen went on.
“Oh, Phil, don’t be so critical,” and Patty shook her head at him. “Mrs. Doremus wasn’t fashionable, I know, nor even very well posted as to a chaperon’s duties, but she was kind, and she filled what I think is known as a long-felt want.”
“She told me something you haven’t told me, Patty,” and Helen looked reproachfully at her cousin.
“What?”