Much as she had enjoyed the ride, Patty felt glad to get into the warm, lighted house, and very soon the party were shown to their rooms.
Patty and Elise shared a large room whose twin beds were covered with spreads of gaily-flowered chintz. Curtains of the same material hung at the windows, and draped the dressing-table.
“What a pleasant, homelike room,” said Patty, as she looked about.
“Yes,” said Elise, “this is a nice old country hotel. We’ve been here before. Hurry, Patty, let’s dress for dinner quickly.”
But Patty was surveying herself in the long pierglass that hung between two windows.
Nan had selected her motoring outfit, and she had donned it that morning so hastily that she hadn’t really had an opportunity to observe herself. But now, as she looked at the rather shapeless figure in the long pongee coat, and the queer shirred hood of the same material, and as she noted the voluminous chiffon veil with its funny little front window of mica, she concluded that she looked more like a goblin in a fairy play than a human being.
“Do stop admiring your new clothes, Patty, and get dressed,” said Elise, who was on her knees before an open suitcase, shaking out Patty’s skirt and bodice. “Get off those togs, and get ready to put these on. This is a sweet little Dresden silk; I didn’t know you had it. Is it new?”
“Yes,” said Patty, “Nan bought it for me. She said it wouldn’t take much room in the suitcase, and would be useful for a dinner dress.”
“It’s lovely,” said Elise. “Now get into it, and I’ll hook you up.”
So Patty got out of what she called her goblin clothes, but was still giggling at them as she hung them away in the wardrobe.