She bade her parents good-by when they started, and watched the new motor-car disappear round the corner, then returned to her own preparations.
“I do have lovely things,” she thought to herself, as she folded her dainty garments and laid them in their places.
Then she glanced again at her new furs.
“I have too much,” she thought; “it isn’t fair for one girl to have so much, when so many poor people have nothing. I wonder what I ought to do about it.”
Poor Patty was confronting the problem that has troubled and baffled so many honest hearts, but the more she thought about it, the more it seemed insoluble.
“At any rate, it would be absurd to give my white furs, or my chiffon frocks to poor people,” she concluded, “for they couldn’t use them. Well, after the holidays, I’m going to see what I can do. But now, I must hurry, or I’ll be late.”
An hour or two later, she found herself in the Farringtons’ home.
“What lovely furs, Patty,” exclaimed Mrs. Farrington, “and how well they suit you!”
They were extremely becoming, and Patty’s pretty face, with its soft colour and smiling eyes, rose like a flower from the white fur at her throat.
“Yes, aren’t they beautiful?” Patty responded. “Father just gave them to me, and I’m so pleased with them.”