"Vicariously is the word you are floundering over," said Farnsworth with utmost gravity; "well, now, I'll fix your car vicariously, or personally, or any old way you like,—if you'll just behave yourself and smile upon me."
"I don't want my car fixed."
"You prefer to stay here?"
"I do."
"Alone?"
"Alone." Patty tried very hard to look like a stone image but only succeeded in looking like a very pretty pink-cheeked girl.
However, at her last word, and when Patty was just about to break into a dimpled smile, Farnsworth achieved a most dignified and conventional bow, replaced his cap, and without another glance at Patty, deliberately got into his car and drove away. He passed Patty, continuing east, and in a few moments was lost to sight, as he flew down the road at a swift pace.
"Well!" remarked Miss Patricia Fairfield, aloud. "Well! Hooray for you,
Little Billee! I didn't know you had it in you to act like that!
But"—and her face clouded a little—"I suppose your head is so full of
Kitty Morton that you don't care what becomes of Patty Fairfield! H'm."
Patty sat still for some time, thinking over this new episode. She had been rude to Farnsworth, and she had done it purposely. But she was accustomed to having young men laugh at her pertness and chuckle over her sauciness.
One or two cars passed her, but as she scrutinised the drivers, they did not seem to be just the type of whom she cared to ask help; but presently a small car came toward her, driven by a frank-looking, pleasant-faced young man.