“Isn’t he great?” said Patty to Mona, as they responded through their closed doors.
But the girls’ suites of rooms could all be made to communicate, and they ran back and forth without using the main hall.
“He is,” agreed Mona, who was brushing her hair at Patty’s dressing-table. “And the more you see of him, the better you’ll like him. He’s shy at first.”
“Shy! That great, big thing shy?”
“Yes; he tries to conceal it, but he is. Not with men, you know,—but afraid of girls. Don’t tease him, Patty.”
“Me tease him!” and Patty looked like an injured saint. “I’m going to be a Fairy Godmother to him. I’ll take care of him and shield him from you hoydens, with your wiles. Now, go to your own rooms, Mona. I should think, with half a dozen perfectly good rooms of your own, you might let me have mine.”
“I can’t bear to leave you, Patty. You’re not much to look at,—I know,—but somehow I forget your plainness, when——”
Mona dodged a powder-puff that Patty threw at her, and ran away to her own rooms.
Half an hour later, Patty went slowly down the grand staircase.
Adele had decreed no evening dress that first night, so Patty wore a little afternoon frock of flowered Dresden silk. It was simply made, with a full skirt and many little flounces, and yellowed lace ruffles fell away from her pretty throat and soft dimpled arms. Its pale colouring and crisp frilliness suited well her dainty type, and she looked a picture as she stood for a moment halfway down the stairs.