“Patty would have to start a canning factory, if she had done that,” said Kenneth, laughing. “Let’s open this big box, Patty. Who sent it?”
“I haven’t an idea, but there must be a card inside.”
They opened the immense box, and found it full to the brim with exquisite Killarney roses.
After some search, Roger discovered a small envelope, with a card inside. The card read, “Mr. William Farnsworth,” and written beneath the engraved name was the message, “With congratulations and best wishes.”
“From Big Bill!” exclaimed Mona. “For goodness’ sake, Patty, why didn’t he send you more? But these didn’t come all the way from Arizona, where he is.”
“No,” said Patty, looking at the label on the box; “he must have just sent an order to a New York florist.”
“To two or three florists, I should think,” said Mr. Hepworth. “What can we do with them all?”
But the crowd of merry young people set to work, and in an hour the floral chaos was reduced to a wonderful vision of symmetry and beauty. Under Mr. Hepworth’s directions, the flowers were banked on the mantels and window-seats, and hung in groups on the wall, and clustered on the door-frames in a profusion which had behind it a methodical and symmetrical intent.
“It’s perfectly beautiful!” declared Nan, who, with her husband, was taking her first view of the finished effect. “It’s a perfect shame to spoil this bower of beauty by cramming it with a crowd of people, who will jostle your bouquets all to bits.”
“Well, we can’t help it,” said Patty. “You see, we invited the people, as well as the flowers, so we must take the consequences. But they can’t reach those that are up high, and as soon as the party is over, I’m going to put them all in fresh water——”