But resolutely putting aside such thoughts, she forced herself to think of her good fortune in securing her present position.
“I’m glad I’m here!” she assured herself, as she dashed cold water into her suspiciously reddened eyes. “I know I shall have all sorts of odd and interesting adventures here; and I’m determined to be happy whatever happens. And, anyway, it will be over soon. A week isn’t long.”
Putting on a trim morning dress, of soft old rose cashmere, with a fine embroidered white yoke, she went sedately down to the breakfast room. She had been told to come to breakfast at nine o’clock, and the clock struck the hour just as she crossed the threshold.
Instead of her employer, she was astounded to see Philip Van Reypen calmly seated at the table.
“Jolly to see you again!” he cried, as he jumped up to greet her. “Just thought I’d run in for a bite of breakfast, and to inquire how Aunty Van’s cold is.”
“I didn’t know she had a cold,” said Patty, primly, trying to act as she thought a companion ought to act.
“Neither did I,” said the irrepressible Philip. “But I didn’t know but she might have caught one in the night. A germ flying in at the window, or something.”
Mindful of Mrs. Van Reypen’s admonitions, Patty tried not to appear interested in the young man’s remarks, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that he was interested in her.
She responded to his gay banter in monosyllables, and kept her dancing eyes veiled by their own long-fringed lids, but this only served to pique Philip’s curiosity.
“I’ve a notion to spend the day here, with Aunty Van,” he said, and then Patty glanced up at him in positive alarm.