“No; Mrs. Van Reypen wouldn’t like it, I’m sure. But, oh, Ken, I’m making good this time! On Thursday the week will be up, and I’ll get my fifteen dollars. Isn’t that gay?”
“You’re a plucky girl, Patty, and I congratulate you. Is it very horrid?”
“No, it isn’t exactly horrid, but I’m fearfully homesick. But it’s only three more days now, and won’t I be glad to get home!”
“And we’ll be glad to have you. The goldfish are dull and moping, and we all want our Patty back again.”
“That’s nice of you. But, Ken, how did you know where to find me? I made Nan and father promise not to tell.”
“Well, I may as well confess: I basely worried it out of Miller. I asked him where he took you to last Thursday afternoon.”
“Oh! I meant to tell him not to tell, but I forgot it. Well, it doesn’t matter much, as you chanced to strike a time when I’m alone. But don’t call me up again. I’m not supposed to have any social acquaintances.”
“Good for you, Patty! If you play the game, play it well. I expect you’re a prim, demure companion as ever was.”
“Of course I am. And if the lady didn’t have such a fishy nephew I’d get along beautifully.”
“Oho! A nephew, eh? And he’s smitten with your charms, as they always are in novels.”