Many a time when Nan wanted Patty’s company or assistance, she refrained from telling her so, and unselfishly left the girl to herself as much as possible.
The result of this was that Patty gave herself up to her books and her school work to such an extent that she allowed herself almost no social recreation, and took little or no exercise beyond her walks to and from school.
This went on for a time, but Patty was, after all, of a sensitive and observing nature, and she soon discovered, by a certain wistful expression on Nan’s face, or a tone of regret in her voice, that she was often sacrificing her own convenience to Patty’s.
Patty’s sense of proportion rebelled at this, and she felt that she must be more obliging to Nan, who was so truly kind to her.
And so she endeavoured to cram more duties into her already full days, and often after a hard day’s work in school, when she would have been glad to throw on a comfortable house gown and rest in her own room, she dressed herself prettily and went out calling with her stepmother, or assisted her to receive her own guests.
Gay-hearted Nan was not acutely observant, and it never occurred to her that all this meant any self-sacrifice on Patty’s part. She accepted with pleasure each occasion when Patty’s plans fell in with her own, and the more this was the case, the more she expected it, so that poor Patty again found herself bewildered by her multitude of conflicting duties.
“I have heard,” she thought to herself one day, “that duties never clash, but it seems to me they never do anything else. Now, this afternoon I’m sure it’s my duty to write my theme, and yet I promised the girls I’d be at rehearsal, and then, Nan is so anxious for me to go shopping with her, that I honestly don’t know which I ought to do; but I believe I’ll write my theme, because that does seem the most important.”
“Patty,” called Nan’s voice from the hall, “you’ll go with me this afternoon, won’t you? I have to decide between those two hats, you know, and truly I can’t take the responsibility alone.”
“Oh, Nan,” said Patty, “it really doesn’t matter which hat you get, they’re both so lovely. I’ve seen them, you know, and truly I think one is just as becoming as the other. And honest, I’m fearfully busy to-day.”
“Oh, pshaw, Patty. I’ve let you alone afternoons for almost a week now, or at least for two or three days, anyhow. I think you might go with me to-day.”