“No,” said Patty, still frowning; “but I wish the flowers would come. I have to make twenty-four garlands before I go over to the schoolroom, and I must be there by ten o’clock to look after the building of the platform.”
“Can’t I make the garlands for you?” asked Nan.
“No,” said Patty, “they have to be made a special way, and you’d only spoil them.”
“But if you showed me,” urged Nan, patiently. “If you did two or three, perhaps I could copy them exactly; at any rate, let me try.”
“Very well,” said Patty, dully, “I wish you could do them, I’m sure.”
The flowers were delayed, as is not unusual in such cases, and it was nearly ten when they arrived.
Patty was almost frantic by that time, and Nan, as she afterward told her husband, had to “handle her with gloves on.”
But by dint of tact and patience, Nan succeeded in persuading Patty, after making two or three garlands, to leave the rest for her to do. Although they were of complicated design, Nan was clever at such things, and could easily copy Patty’s work. And had she been herself, Patty would have known this. But so upset was she that even her common sense seemed warped.
When she reached the schoolroom there were a thousand and one things to see to, and nearly all of them were going wrong.
Patty flew from one thing to another, straightening them out and bringing order from confusion, and though she held herself well in hand, the tension was growing tighter, and there was danger of her losing control of herself at any minute.