“Well, you must have plenty of absent adorers. Can’t you encourage their correspondence?”
“But then I’d have to write first, and I hate to do that, it’s so—so sort of forward.”
“That, to be sure. But it’s better to be forward than forlorn.”
“Oh, I’m not exactly forlorn!” said Patty, indignantly. “I can be happy with all these others, if t’other dear charmer is away.”
“Can you, Patty?” whispered Bill. “Are you happy here?”
“Oho, Little Billee, I am beatifically happy! Just see that confection Louis is bringing in! Could I be anything but happy with that ahead of me?”
The dessert that had just appeared was indeed a triumph of the confectioner’s art. Composed of ice cream, meringue and spun sugar, it was built into an airy structure that delighted the sight as well as the palate. Everybody applauded, and Adele declared it was really a shame to demolish it.
“It would be a shame not to,” said Patty, her blue eyes dancing in anticipation of the delicious sweet.
“What a little gourmande you are,” said Chick, watching Patty help herself bountifully to the dessert.
“’Deed I am. I love sweet things, they always make me feel at peace with the world. I eat them mostly for their mental and moral effect on me, for my disposition is not naturally sweet, and so I do all I can to improve it.”