“But I thought Philip was going back to the city,” said Patty, looking at Adèle.
“He’s going on the afternoon train. Go on and get dressed, Patty, and don’t waste any more time.”
“All right,” and Patty made an expeditious toilette and in little more than half an hour went downstairs equipped for her ride.
She was enveloped from head to foot in a raccoon fur coat, with a jaunty hat of the same, trimmed only with a bright quill feather.
“Why do we go?” she demanded, presenting herself before Philip, who was waiting in the hall.
“To get butter and eggs,” he returned, gravely. “The Kenerley larder is entirely empty of those two very necessary ingredients.”
“But why do we go for them? Are there no servants to send?”
“Little girls shouldn’t ask questions,” and without further ceremony Philip tucked her into the waiting sleigh, sprang in beside her, and took up the lines.
“My, this is great!” exclaimed Patty, as the pair of fine horses went dashing down the drive, and the clear, keen winter air blew against her face.
“Yes; I thought the sleighride would brace you up. And, really, there seemed to be nobody to send on this errand, so I said we’d go.”