As Patty said afterward, she felt herself being drawn into a net, from which there seemed to be no escape. But she determined to make one more effort.
“I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” she said, “but, to tell the truth, I’m not very sociable.” Then, like a flash, she realised that this was not true, and endeavoured to amend it. “I mean,” she went on, “in the summer time, when I’m away from home. That is,—don’t you know,—I think one likes a sort of vacation from society during the summer; don’t you?”
“Oh, yes! But, of course, the social doings down here are not like those in the city. I’m not much in society down here, myself; so we can have real good times with each other, and give society the go-by.”
Patty gave up in despair. She couldn’t make this girl understand that she did not desire her intimate friendship, without being positively rude; and, though of an independent nature, Patty was always unwilling to hurt the feelings of others.
But very soon Nan rose to take leave, and the call was over.
“What can I do?” exclaimed Patty, as they were safely out of hearing distance of “Red Chimneys.” “That girl is the limit! She’ll be over to our house all the time, if I don’t do something to stop her!”
“Oh, don’t take it too seriously!” advised Nan. “Sometimes these troubles that loom up so darkly fade away of themselves.”
“She won’t fade away,” declared Patty; “Mona is no fader! But some day I shall take her out in my motor car, way, way out beyond civilisation, and come back without her!”
“That’s a splendid plan!” said Nan, approvingly; “practical, sensible, and easily carried out!”
“Yes, isn’t it,” said Patty, grinning. And then they were at “The Pebbles” again, and were soon arrayed in their motor toggery, and starting away in the Swift Camilla.