“Didn’t you hear the luncheon gong?” she said.
“No,” replied Patty, looking up. “Is it one o’clock already?”
“For goodness’, gracious’ sake, Patty! What are you doing? Is that your ‘occupation’?”
“Yes,” said Patty, proudly displaying a wild rose, beautifully worked, and carefully tinted. “Don’t I do it nicely?”
“Indeed you do! Your embroidery is always exquisite. But are you going to work that whole centrepiece?”
“No, only a section,—see, just this much.”
Patty indicated the portion she was to work, but she didn’t say that she had thirty-five more, carefully laid away in a box, to do within the week.
“Well,” agreed Nan, “that’s not such a terrific task. But will they give you fifteen dollars for that piece?”
“No,” said Patty, smiling a little grimly; “but there are others.”
“Oho! A lot of them! A dozen, I suppose. They always give out work by dozens. Well, girlie, I don’t want to be discouraging, but you can’t do a dozen in a week. Come on down to luncheon.”