“Of course there are always opportunities for doing good,—organised charities and those things that everybody takes part in. But if you want to widen your own field of benefaction, simply know more people. Whether you know them socially or as casual acquaintances, you will almost invariably add happiness to their lives, though it be in the merest trifles. Now, I’m assuming that you have sense enough not to overdo this thing, and thrust yourself upon people who don’t want you.”
“Madam,” said Patty, in mock indignation, “you may trust me. I am an American!”
“You are indeed; and you have what is known as Yankee good sense, if you are a mere infant.”
“Eighteen is pretty old, I think; and you’re not so very ancient, yourself,” retorted Patty; “but I’m willing to sit at your feet and acquire wisdom.”
When dressed to go out that afternoon, Patty stopped at Lady Hamilton’s door to say good-bye.
“Come in, and let me see if you’ll pass muster. Yes, that frilly, flowered muslin is just right for the Terrace; and that hat with long streamers is truly pastoral.”
“What’s pastoral about the Terrace, pray?”
“Nothing but the ladies’ clothes, and the lamb-like demeanour of the M.P.’s.”
“I may see your father there.”
“You may. But he’ll be an exception to the lamb-like ones. Here, let me put these valley lilies in your belt. They rather suit your costume.”