“I don’t think you’re so awfully humble, Philip.”
“Can’t be, while I have you to be proud of! Oh, Patty, do decide quicker’n a month! That seems a century! Say a fortnight.”
“Nope. A month it is, before I need to say yes or no to your question. One more month of gay girlish freedom. Oh, Phil, I couldn’t be tied down to any one man! I want to flirt with all of them!”
“Do it in this month, then. For I warn you, after thirty-one more days, your flirtations must be laid aside, with your wax doll and Britannia teaset.”
“You seem pretty positive!”
“Faint heart never won fair lady. I’ve lots of faults, but a faint heart isn’t one of them. You’re the girl for me, but you don’t quite know it for sure,—yet. So I’m going to show you the truth, and gently but firmly lead you to it!”
Philip kept the conversation in this light key, and when he went away, Patty retained the impression of a very charming afternoon with him.
“He is nice,” she said to Nan, after telling her all about it; “You feel so sort of sure of him all the time. He always does the right thing.”
“Yes,” said Nan.
Next day brought many visitors, but among the most welcome was Baby Milly, or Middy, as she called herself, and as Patty always called her.