“What! the party?” and Kenneth looked astounded.
“I mean the flowers,” said Patty, not deigning to laugh at his foolishness. “And then, to-morrow morning, I’m going to send them all to the hospital.”
“The people?” said Kenneth again. “That’s thoughtful of you, Patty! I have no doubt they’ll be in condition to go. I’m about ready, myself.”
“Well, you may go now,” and Patty smiled at him. “Your work is done here, and I’m going away to dress. Good-bye, Ken; this is the last time you’ll see me as a little girl. When next we meet, I shall be a young lady, a fully-fledged society lady, whose only thoughts will be for dancing and gaiety of all sorts.”
“Nonsense,” said Kenneth; “you can’t scare me. You’ll be the same old Patty, foolish and irresponsible,—but sunshiny and sweet as ever.”
“Thank you, Ken,” said Patty, for there was a note of earnestness in Kenneth’s voice that the girl was quick to catch. They had been friends since childhood, and while Patty did not take her “coming out” very seriously, yet she realised that it meant she was grown up and a child no longer.
“Don’t let it all spoil you, Patty.” It was Mr. Hepworth who said this, as he was about to follow Kenneth out. “I have a right to lecture you, you know, and I want to warn you——”
“Oh, don’t do it now, Mr. Hepworth,” said Patty, laughing; “the occasion is solemn enough, I’m sure, and if you lecture me, I shall burst into large weeps of tears! Do let me ‘come out’ without being lectured, and you can come round to-morrow and give me all the warnings you like.”
“You’re right, little Patty,” and Hepworth looked at her kindly. “I ought not to spoil one of the happiest days of your life with too serious thought. Yours is a butterfly nature——”
“But butterfly natures are nice; aren’t they, Mr. Hepworth?” and Patty looked up at him with the roguishness that she could never quite control.