“We will!” said Lady Herenden and Patty, at the same moment, and then they all laughed, and the guests were at once shown to their rooms.
After a bewildering route through several branching halls, Patty found that to her had been assigned a large and pleasant room, which looked out upon the rose-garden. On one side it communicated with Lady Hamilton’s room, and on the other opened into a dainty dressing-room and bath. It was all enchanting, and Patty’s gaze rested admiringly upon the chintz draperies and Dresden ornaments, when she heard a tap at her door. Answering, she found a trim maid, who courtesied and said: “I’m Susan, Miss. Will you give me the keys of your boxes, and I’ll unpack them.”
Patty almost laughed at this casual request, in the face of what seemed to her a tragedy.
“Susan,” she said, “here are the keys, but you can’t unpack my boxes for they haven’t come.”
“Lor’, Miss; they must be downstairs. I’ll have them sent up.”
“No—wait, Susan; they’re not downstairs. They didn’t come on the train.”
“Lor’, Miss, whatever will you do?”
The girl’s eyes grew big and troubled. Here was a dreadful situation indeed! Already Susan felt drawn toward the pretty young American girl, and she was aghast at the outlook of a dinner party with no party frock.
“I can’t go to dinner at all, Susan,” said Patty, dejectedly. “You must bring me a tray up here—though I don’t feel like eating.”
“Not go to dinner, Miss? Oh, what a pity! It’s a grand dinner to-night. The Earl of Ruthven is here, and it’s one of her ladyship’s greatest dinners of the season.”