Farnsworth had spoken in a kind voice, but Patty knew that he had heard what she and Philip had said about coming down in the moonlight.
“I think he’s a horrid, mean old thing!” said Patty to herself, when she reached her own room. “His manners are not half as good as Philip’s, and he’s rude and unkind, and I just hate him!”
Whereupon, as if to prove her words, she took from her portfolio the poem in the blue envelope, and read it all over again; and then put it under her pillow and went to sleep.
A few days later Patty was back in New York. She gave her father and Nan glowing accounts of the delightful times she had had at Fern Falls and the jollities of a country house party in the winter time. She told them all about the pleasant people she had met up there, about her experience at Mrs. Fay’s, and about Farnsworth’s flying visits.
“I’d like to meet that man,” said Nan. “I think he sounds attractive, Patty.”
“He is attractive,” said Patty, frankly; “but he’s queer. You never know what mood he’s going to be in. Sometimes he’s awfully friendly, and then again he gets huffy over nothing.”
“I’m afraid you tease him, Patty,” said her father, smiling at her. “You’re getting to be such a popular young person that I fear you’re getting spoiled.”
“Not Patty,” said Nan, kindly. “Go ahead, my child, and have all the fun you can. The young men all adore you, and I don’t wonder.”
“Why, Nancy Bell, how complimentary you are!” and Patty gave her stepmother an affectionate pat.