It happened that among their guests the Crabbs had staying with them as a remnant of the housewarming party a young girl who, because she was only a little younger than Patricia in years, but centuries younger in knowledge of the world, had become one of her most treasured friends.
Little Miss North loved her, too—looked up to her as the ignorant do to the wise, and when her engagement to the Baron DeLaunay was announced Aurora came and told Patricia even before she told her family. Yet Patricia’s shrewd mind found something wrong and she urged the girl to come and join her housewarming for the sole reason of finding out the true inwardness of the engagement, and perhaps, too—who shall say?—to practice her arts again.
After a day or two of mild questioning, of studying, of watching, she began to see light.
Then she invited the Baron for a week end, and made certain preparations.
Then she waited his arrival with her nerves tingling.
She met her husband and the Baron at the steps as they ascended from the machine which brought them from the station.
“Ah monsieur! so glad! I was wondering if you’d be here in time for tea.”
“Wild horses could not have detained me longer, from a glimpse of your beaux yeux, Madame.”
He bent forward with a handsome gesture and kissed the tips of Patricia’s fingers, but she laughed gaily.
“Don’t waste pretty speeches, Baron. Besides——” she paused significantly and pointed toward the door through which her husband’s shoulders had disappeared, “she is there,” she finished.