“That leaves me ten!” said Patty, airily. “Ten ways of earning a living is a fair show. I can discard nine more and still have a chance.”
“All right, Patsy. I’m glad you’re not disheartened. And I suppose you are learning something of the conditions of our social economy.”
“Gracious, Nan! How you do talk! Are you quite sure you know what you mean?”
“No, but I thought you would,” said Nan, and with that parting shot, she left the room.
It was late in the afternoon before Patty dawdled downstairs.
Her shoulders and the back of her neck still ached, but otherwise she felt all right again, and her spirits had risen proportionately.
About four o’clock Kenneth called, bringing a mysterious burden, which he carried with great care.
He knew of Patty’s scheme, and though he appreciated the nobility of her endeavour, he could not feel very sanguine hopes of her success.
“You’re not cut out for a wage-earner, Patty,” he had said to her; “it’s like a butterfly making bread.”