Although Peter Homer was only about twenty-five, and the Van Winkles were near Patty’s age, he seemed much older than the other three. Patty realised this, and attributed it to his really serious and scholarly nature, which he hid behind his pretence of taking everything lightly. She liked the man very much, for he was most interesting and amusing, but he sometimes had a preoccupied air which made Patty feel young and ignorant.
“Well, he can go with us to-morrow,” she thought, “and if he thinks we’re not wise enough for him, he needn’t go again.”
It was the evening they were to dine at Mr. Leland’s, and Patty looked forward with pleasure to a visit to a real Roman home.
“Of course,” she said to Nan, “I don’t mean ancient Roman. I’ve learned better than to look for couches instead of dining chairs; but I think it will be fun to see how an American lives in Rome.”
So Patty ran away to her room to dress for the dinner party.
She chose a white chiffon, with a round, low-cut neck, and a skirt that billowed into soft frills, and to it she added a beautiful Roman sash that she had bought that very day.
She was peacocking up and down in front of the long mirror, when Nan came in.
“I suppose I’m too grown up to wear a Roman sash,” said Patty, looking over her shoulder at the soft silk ends, with their knotted fringe; “but the colours are so lovely, and it seems appropriate.”
“By all means wear it, if you like,” said Nan; “it’s a beautiful one; and anyway, I don’t suppose Mr. Leland will know a sash from a redingote.”