Young Van Reypen dropped onto a stair a few steps below Patty, who sat down, too, feeling decidedly at her ease, for, upon occasion, a staircase was one of her favourite haunts.
“It’s like a party,” she said, smiling. “I love to sit on a staircase at a party, don’t you?”
And so provocative of sociability did the staircase prove, that when Mrs. Van Reypen came down, in all the glory of her black velvet and old lace, she nearly tumbled over two chatting young people, who seemed to be very good friends.
“Philip! You here?” she exclaimed, and a casual observer would have said she was not too well pleased.
“Yes, Aunty Van; aren’t you as glad to see me as I am to see you? I’ve been making Miss Fairfield’s acquaintance. You may introduce us if you like, but it isn’t really necessary.”
“So it seems,” said the old lady, drily; “but as I have some regard for the conventions, I will present to you, Miss Fairfield, my scape-grace and ne’er-do-well nephew, Philip Van Reypen.”
“What an awful reputation to live up to,” said Patty, smiling at the debonair Philip, who quite looked the part his aunt assigned to him.
“Awful, but not at all difficult,” he responded, gaily, and Patty followed as he escorted his aunt to the dining-room.
The little dinner-party was a gay one; Mrs. Van Reypen became mildly amiable under the influence of the young people’s merry chatter, and Patty felt that so far, at least, a companion’s lot was not such a very unhappy one.
After dinner, however, the young man was sent peremptorily away. He begged to stay, but his aunt ordered him off, declaring that she had seen enough of him, and he was not to return for a week at least. Philip went away, sulkily, declaring that he would call the very next morning to inquire after his aunt’s health.