So tea was served in the library, and a very pleasant informal feast it was.
Mr. Fairfield came in, and soon the whole quartette were chatting gaily as if they had always known each other.
Mr. Cameron was especially interested in Patty's club called "Happy
Saturdays."
"It's the kindest thing I ever heard of," he said, enthusiastically. "It does good to people who can't be reached by any organised charity. I don't want to intrude, Miss Fairfield, and I don't want to exploit myself, but if you ever give your Saturday friends a little musicale or anything like that, I'd jolly well like to play for you. I'll play popular stuff, or I'll play my best Sunday-go-to-meeting pieces, whichever you prefer."
"That's awfully nice of you," said Patty, smiling at him. "I've often thought I'd get up something of that sort."
"We might have it here," said Nan, "unless you mean to invite more people than we could take care of."
"I'd like to have it here," said Patty; "the drawing-room would easily seat sixty or seventy in an audience,—perhaps more. And I don't believe we could find more than that to invite. Although I know of a girls' club that I'd like to invite as a whole."
"It's a pretty big thing you're getting up, Pattikins," said Mr. Fairfield, smiling kindly at his enthusiastic daughter, "but if you think you can swing it, go ahead. I'll help all I can."
"It would upset the house terribly," said Nan; "but I don't mind that.
I'm with you, Patty. Let's do it."
"If you're shy on the programme, I can get one or two fellows to help us out," said Cameron. "A chum of mine warbles a good baritone and I'm dead sure he'd like to help."