This plan enchanted Patty, and after a moment’s hesitation, Lady Hamilton agreed. So the evening proved a merry little festivity, and Patty went to bed healthily tired, but healthily happy.
Bob Hartley did not forget his promise to ask Patty to the Garden Party at Regent’s Park, and Patty gladly accepted the invitation.
“The only thing that bothers me,” she said to Nan, “is that the Hartleys don’t seem to have much money, and at a Charity Garden Party there are so many ways to spend, that I fear I’ll be a burden to them. It makes me awfully uncomfortable, and yet I can’t offer to pay for myself. And with those young men present, I can’t offer to pay for the whole party.”
“No,” agreed Nan. “But you might do something yourself. Invite them all to be your guests at some especial side-show, or booth. There are often such opportunities.”
“I hope there will be. The Hartleys are a funny kind of poor. They have a good apartment in London, and their country place is fine. They have old servants, and keep a carriage, and all that, and yet they never seem to have spending money.”
“English people are often like that. The keeping up of an establishment comes first with them, and little personal comforts afterward.”
“That isn’t my idea of economy,” said Patty, decidedly; “I’d rather spend all I want on flowers and books and pretty hats, and go without a butler and a footman and even a team of horses.”
“You can’t judge, because you’ve always had whatever you want.”
“Of course; because father is indulgent and has plenty of money. But if he hadn’t, I’d be just as happy, living in a plainer way.”
“Yes, Patty, I believe you would,” and Nan looked at the girl affectionately. “Well, do your best to help the Hartleys financially this afternoon without offending them.”