“No, it wasn’t my idea. You all know my overweening modesty. But Chick, here, said that the parvenu element in the lady’s soul would be kindly disposed toward,—well, let us say, toward the daughter of Frederick Fairfield.”
This turning of the tables made them all laugh, but Channing said, “It’s quite true. I know the Meredith type, and I was sure that to be made conspicuous by an acknowledged social power, like our Patty, would be unction to her soul.”
“Well, it was a crazy piece of business,” said Mr. Fairfield, “but as it turned out so admirably, we can’t complain. It is right down splendid, to get the little one taken by such a fine woman as Mrs. Colton. I’m sure it will be a most successful arrangement. And we owe you a vote of thanks, Channing, for bringing it about.”
“Oh, I’m only accessory before the fact. Patty did it. I wish you could have seen her when she mounted that chair! It was as good as a play. Her do-or-die expression, concealed beneath a society smile, was a whole show!”
“I don’t care, I accomplished my purpose,” and Patty beamed with satisfaction; “but it was mostly because Chick dared me!”
“Let us hope I’ll always be present at any crisis in your life to dare you!” said Channing. “It’s an easy way to achieve great results.”
When Patty’s friends heard of her episode, they bombarded her with telephone messages and notes and calls concerning it. Some chaffed her and others praised, but all were agog over the matter. Even Mrs. Van Reypen telephoned to know if the report she had heard were true.
“What did you hear?” asked Patty.
“That you went to a tea and auctioned off a baby.”