“You may, indeed,” said Mr. Fairfield, answering for his daughter. “Come right along, Miss Carrington, and we’ll be of service to you in any way we can.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Flo, her dark eyes dancing at the thought of such a pleasure trip. “I’ll try to wheedle mumsie into it, and I’ll let you know, Patty, if I succeed. I’ll write you in London.”
“I wish my mumsie would let me go,” put in Caddy Oram, in such plaintive tones that they all laughed. “But she can’t spare her pet boy at present, so I can only wish you all sorts of happy experiences, Miss Fairfield.”
The young man rose to go, and soon there was a general departure of most of the guests. Floyd Austin and Peter Homer tarried after the others had gone, and Lady Hamilton proposed that they all go indoors, for the evening air was growing chill. Then to the dining-room for a bit of a farewell supper, and Patty, as guest of honour, was queen of the merry feast.
“I am very sorry to lose my little Miss Yankee Doodle,” said Sir Otho. “Of all the American girls I’ve ever met,—and I’ve never met any other,—she’s the most like an English girl.”
“I’m sorry not to return the compliment,” said Patty, “but you’re not the least bit like an American. Though you’re quite the nicest Englishman I know.”
A groan from Mr. Homer and a wail from Floyd Austin greeted this speech.
“Never mind,” said Austin, cheerfully, “our own English lassies like us, anyway.”
“And mayn’t we count on your admiration, Mrs. Fairfield?” said Peter Homer. “I trust all American ladies are not so exclusive in their favours as Miss Patricia.”
“You may indeed,” said Nan, smiling; “and let me advise you not to take Patty’s words too literally. I’m beginning to think that since she escaped my restraining influences she has developed coquettish tendencies. I’d not be surprised to learn that she admires both you young men extremely.”