“Oh, it isn’t just a momentary tiff; they are up and down angry! Why, neither of them danced with me or even spoke to me after supper last night!”
“Well, it was probably your own fault.”
“My own fault, indeed! It was all because of that horrid Lansing man. Well, if they want to stay mad, they may! I shan’t make any advances.”
“Don’t worry, my child. Into each life some little squabbles must fall,—and though you’re fairly good-natured, as a rule, you can’t expect it always to be smooth sailing.”
Seeing she could get no sympathy from her stepmother, Patty dropped the subject of her quarrels, and remarked, with a yawn, “Well, I suppose I may as well get up, and begin on those flower notes. What shall I say, Nan, something like this? ‘Miss Patricia Fairfield thanks you for your kind donation of expensive blossoms, but as it’s such a bother to write the notes of acknowledgment, she really wishes you hadn’t sent them.’”
“What base ingratitude! Patty, I’m ashamed of you! or I would be, if I thought you meant a word of it, but I know you don’t. What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. We’re going to have a club, just a little club,—only four of us girls. And, Nan, you know there are so many clubs that make an awful fuss and yet don’t really do anything. Well, this is going to be a Doing Club. We’re going to be real doers.”
“It sounds lovely, Patty. What are you going to do?”
“We don’t know yet, that’s what the meeting’s for this afternoon. But we’re going to do good, you know—some kind of good. You know, Nan, I always said I didn’t want to be just a social butterfly and nothing else. I want to accomplish something that will give some joy or comfort to somebody.”
Patty’s blue eyes looked very earnest and sincere as she said this, and Nan kissed her, saying, “I know you do, Patty, dearest, and I know you’ll succeed in your doing. If I can help you in any way, be sure to ask me; and now I’ll run away and let you dress.”