“Oh, don’t call me such dreadful names!” pleaded Patty, wringing her hands in mock despair. “Do let me down more easily than that! I’ve never done such a thing before, and I’m perfectly certain I never shall again!”
“I don’t believe you ever will,” returned her father, kindly, and he said no more about what was really somewhat culpable carelessness.
The next day the guests arrived. It was Wednesday, and the birthday was on Thursday.
Elise and Roger were due at three o’clock. Mr. Hepworth was to bring Christine down a little later, and they were expected at five; while Kenneth and Mr. Van Reypen could not reach Spring Beach until seven.
So, a little before three, Patty started in her car to go to the station to meet the Farringtons. As Elise and Roger stepped off the train, they saw her sitting smiling at them, and they made a rush for the Stanhope.
“What a ducky little motor!” cried Elise. “Oh, Patty, it’s the prettiest one I ever saw! and it’s so becoming to you! Shall I get in?”
“Yes,” answered Patty, as she gaily greeted them both. “I’ll take you over to the house, Elise, but I can’t take you both. Roger, if you don’t mind, will you go in that stage vehicle, and I’ll give you a ride in my car some other time.”
“Yes, of course, Patty; and I’ll look after the luggage. You two girls go on, and I’ll see you later. Where do I go to, Patty?”
“Oh, just tell the driver to take you to Mr. Fairfield’s house. He knows where it is. We call it ‘The Pebbles,’ but he may not know it by that name. But you’ll get there, somehow.”