“I haven’t been dolled up in so long, I ’most forget how to primp, but I daresay it will come back to me, for I’m a very vain person.”
“That’s good,” and Nurse Adams laughed. “It’s always a good sign when a patient revives an interest in clothes.”
“I doubt if I ever lost mine, really. It was probably lying dormant all through the late unpleasantness. Now, please, my blue brocade mules and some blue stockings,—or, no,—white ones, I think.”
Miss Adams brushed the mop of golden curls, that had been so in the way during the severe illness, and massed them high on the little head, crowning all with the dainty cap of lace and ribbons.
“Now, I will gracefully recline on my boudoir couch, and await the raising of the curtain.”
“You darling thing!” cried Adele, as she entered, “if you aren’t the same old Patty!”
“’Course I am! Who did you think I would be? Oh, but it’s good to see you! I haven’t seen a soul but the Regular Army for weeks and months and years!”
Patty had never referred to Farnsworth’s presence, and no one had spoken of it to her. They had concluded that she was really unconscious of it, or it had lapsed from her memory.
“And you’re looking so well. Your cheeks are quite pink, and, why, I do declare, you look almost pretty!”
“I think I look ravishingly beautiful. I’ve consulted a mirror today for the first time, and I was so glad to see myself again, it was quite like meeting an old friend. How’s Jim?”