“You poor little Patty,” cried Nan; “you poor, dear, little thing! How could she torture you so?”
“It was, Nan,” cried Patty, eagerly; “it was just that,—torture. Oh, I’m so glad you can see it! I didn’t know what to do. She said I mustn’t refuse the request of a dying woman, and she grabbed my arm and shook me, and she looked like a—oh, she just looked terrifying, you know, and she—well, I guess she hypnotised me into promising.”
“Of course she did! It’s a perfect shame!” and Nan gathered Patty into her arms.
“It is a shame,” agreed Mr. Fairfield, smiling at his daughter, “but it won’t be such an awfully hard promise to keep, will it, Little Girl? Of course you hated to have it put to you in that manner, but there are less desirable men in this world than Philip Van Reypen.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Patty, and she burst into tears on Nan’s shoulder.
“And you sha’n’t,” returned Nan, caressing her. “Go away, Fred. A man doesn’t know how to deal with a case like this. Patty isn’t strong enough yet to think of bothersome things. You go away and we’ll tell you later what we decide.”
Mr. Fairfield rose, grumbling, laughingly, that it was the first time he had ever been called down by his own family. But he went away, saying over his shoulder, “You girls just want to have a tearfest, that’s all.”
“Tell me all about it, dear,” said Nan, as Patty smiled through her tears.
“That’s about all, Nancy. But it was such a horrid situation. I do like Phil, but I don’t want to make any such promise as that. Of course, Phil has asked me himself, several times, but I’ve never said yes——”
“Or no?”