“Kit Cameron is very much in love with you, Patty. He asked me when you were ill, if I thought he had a chance. Has he?”
“Not the ghost of a chance! Kit’s an old dear, and I like him a heap, but he’s a worse flirt than I am. Mercy, Nan, I wouldn’t marry him for a minute!”
“Chick Channing?”
“No. He’s a lovely boy to play around with, but not to take for a life partner. Oh, well, I s’pose it’ll have to be Phil, after all.”
“Your father and I would like that.”
“And Mrs. Van Reypen seemed to think she’d like it; and I feel quite sure Phil would like it; and it doesn’t matter about little old me!”
“Patty! stop talking like that! You know nobody wants you to do a thing you don’t want to do! And don’t get mad at your Nan, who has only your best interests at heart!”
“’Deed I won’t! I’m a brute! A big, ugly, horrid brute! Nansome, you’re my good angel. Now, let’s drop this subject for a time,—or I’ll get so nervous I’ll fly to the moon!”
“Of course you will! And you’re not going to be bothered out of your life, either. You put it all out of your mind, and come with me, out for a ridy-by. Then back and have a nice little nap. Then a ’normous big luncheon; and then dress yourself all up pretty for callers.”
“What an entrancing programme! Nan, sometimes I think you’re a genius! I sure do!”