Part 9

"I was reading something awfully stupid for I thought she might go to sleep and I know she wasn't listening at all, and finally I heard her say, "If I could find my baby--I'd be ready to die!" Now I wasn't reading a _thing_ about dying or a baby and she frightened me dreadfully! I suppose she had forgotten I was there. Then when I went on reading she said it again--real plain! Now, Pat, isn't that exciting? Where _do_ you suppose her baby is and _how'd_ she ever lose it?"

None of Pat's experiences could equal this for mystery! Pat stared at Renee and Renee stared back; in the quiet of the Eyrie they thought up all sorts of explanations and stories--tragic, all of them! Pat fairly shivered with delight.

"Aren't you _lucky_, Renee--to have such a spliffy mystery! It's just _spooky_! I'm going to write a story about that! You get her to talk more--read a lot about babies and listen hard! And talk to that old Crosspatch, maybe she'll tell you something. That's the way they always do in detective stories. Something dreadful _must_ have happened to make her live like that, in that ugly old house! Oh, rapture, I _know_ I'm going to be famous! This goes way ahead of Aunt Pen's story! Of course," she added, hastily, "I don't know _all_ Aunt Pen's secret sorrow yet and she doesn't stay in bed and act queer! I think I'll call this "The Lost Baby!"

So that evening, armed with several newly-sharpened pencils and much of Daddy's writing paper, Pat began her first chapter. However, its progress met with a serious setback when Aunt Pen laid in her hands a letter from Angeline Snow. Pat opened it eagerly; she had not heard from any of her old schoolmates at Miss Prindle's for a long time.

She read it quickly. Miss Angeline, in a few breezy sentences, informed Pat that she would come immediately to make her a visit!

"... You were _such_ a dear to ask me (Pat read that twice, thoughtfully)--and the doctor says I need a teeny rest. Mama is in California and of course I cannot go to her! But we'll have a perfectly sweet time together and I'm just dying to see you again. We've missed you dreadfully here! I have _bushels_ to tell you--just you. (About the girls and things--you'll _die_ when you hear it all!) I'll come on the Empire on Thursday, so please meet me. I have a stunning new hat, henna and turquoise blue and a feather you'll want to _eat_. Bye-bye, your Angeline."

So intent was Pat upon examining the gold crest on the paper that she did not see the curious look that flashed over Aunt Pen's face.

"Good gracious," she exclaimed, suddenly, "that's to-morrow!"

"Yes," Aunt Pen answered quietly, "and we must do everything we can to make her visit pleasant!"

*CHAPTER XVII*

*ANGELINE*

At a first glimpse, from the crown of her glossy black head to the patent tip of her smart little shoe, Angeline Snow, arriving the day following, was like a stranger to Pat!

Pat had left her at the close of that last term of school, after parting embraces and repeated pledges of undying friendship, a girl, long of leg and short of skirt like herself; now she beheld a fascinating young creature whose slim body was robed in a dress of the most stylish fabric and cut, its clinging skirts reaching quite to the tops of the little patent leather shoes, and the hair that Pat had always loved to braid and unbraid was pinned in curious puffs and waves close to the small head.

However, in the transformation, Angeline had lost none of the fascination that had made of Pat, in the old days at Miss Prindle's, a sort of adoring slave. She was amazingly pretty, her black hair made her white skin dazzling, the faintest of rose-pink flushed her cheeks and the tip of her pointed chin; her eyes set deep under long black lashes were as blue as a June sky; her mouth alone marred the perfection of her face--when the lips were not twisted into an affected smile, acquired after faithful study before the mirror, they glaringly betrayed the girl's little weaknesses.

There might well be some doubt in anyone's mind as to why a doctor had prescribed a rest for the young lady! From the moment when, clasping her Pekinese under her arm and followed by a porter with two huge shiny leather suitcases she stepped down from the train, she fairly bubbled with spirits!

Quickly Pat fell under the old charm! Because Renee had developed a light attack of influenza which confined her to her bed and kept Aunt Pen in close attendance, lessons were suspended and the two girls were left very much to themselves. At Aunt Pen's suggestion Pat moved into Celia's room, which adjoined the room assigned to Angeline. A door opened from one to another and every night and morning Pat crept in under Angeline's covers for a little while and listened breathlessly while Angeline told the "secrets" of the school. Almost always there was a box of chocolates under Angeline's pillow so that at regular intervals the stories were interrupted while the two girls munched on the candies.

"The very most exciting thing of all--and don't you _dare_ breathe it to a soul"--and Angeline sat bolt upright and clasped her arms about her knees--"is the _awful_ scrape that Jule Kale and I got into and that's _really_ why I'm here!"

Jule Kale had been a Junior when Pat had been at Miss Prindle's. Pat remembered her as a daring young lady whose adventures had more than once thrilled her and the other girls in the school.

"You know she'd been writing to a French soldier for over a year, even after Prin said we couldn't and what _do_ you think! He _came_ to New York! He was the handsomest thing--the girls were all crazy about him, when we described him! He wrote to Jule right away and asked her to meet him at the Waldorf and she went real often and took me with her. I used to take a book and pretend to read, but I watched every minute so's I could tell the other girls. Once he bought me some chocolate, too, when Jule told why I was sitting there. He said there were some more Frenchmen coming over and he'd introduce them to us! Oh, the girls were _wild_ with excitement! Then one afternoon Jule went to a tea-room and danced with him and she didn't take me and some one saw her there and told Prin and Jule was awfully scared, 'cause you remember Prin had told her that the next scrape she was in she'd have to leave the school! And what does Jule do but tell Prin that he was her _cousin_ who had been in the French flying service! And Prin _insisted_ that she invite him up to school for dinner like we always do our relatives and have him give a talk about the war and Jule had the _worst_ time explaining how he had to go away and couldn't come! And we knew all the while that Prin was sniffing around the way she does for more information so Jule thought I'd better go away for awhile so's she couldn't question me! I pretended to faint one day--I can do it awfully well now--and Prin never said a word when I told her I wanted to come here for a visit. But wasn't that all exciting and wouldn't it be _funny_ if some day Jule married the French soldier? His name is Henri Dupres. Only Jule says his teeth are all filled with gold and he shows 'em _all_ the time as if he was proud of them!"

Contrasted to these exciting revelations Pat felt that the telling of her little experiences--the happy school with Aunt Pen, the Eyrie and its secrets, the jolly hours at the Lee's, the basketball games, the Scout work and play, would be stupid to Angeline!

Aunt Pen had bade Pat do everything she could to entertain her guest; Pat found that Angeline was easily entertained. Indeed, the young lady never failed to indicate with daring frankness just what she wanted to do and what she did _not_ want to do. And to Pat's dismay none of Angeline's desires included any of the other girls! Angeline stated very plainly that she considered Peggy "stupid," Keineth "a kid," and Sheila--"downright common."

"Why, do you mean she lives in that tumble-down house and her mother keeps _lodgers_?" she had asked with scorn.

Pat had opened her lips to answer and then closed them quickly. Something within her told her that nothing she could say would win Angeline's approval of Sheila--she, too, months ago, when she was at Miss Prindle's, might have thought the same thing!

Angeline, with pretty condescension, found Renee interesting. "Poor little refugee!" she said when Pat told Renee's story.

The two girls divided their time in the moving-picture theatres, the chocolate shops and the stores. Angeline never tired of hanging over counters and showcases; because she was smartly dressed and possessed a fund of information as to styles, she commanded respect and attention from the clerks. Each day Pat grew more and more envious and impressed by Angeline's "grown-upness."

Under Angeline's influence Pat began to feel ashamed of her own simple garments and to contrast them unhappily with the finery Angeline spread out over the bed for her inspection. She turned the henna and turquoise creation over and over while Angeline told that it had cost twenty-five whole dollars! "That's more than Renee and I earned all winter," Pat thought. And Angeline put into her hands a pair of pumps, gleefully remarking that "they were sixteen and I got them for twelve--_wasn't_ that a great bargain?"

In her rude way, which Angeline considered pretty frankness, she made Pat understand, too, that she was "simply amazed" to find that Pat lived in such a plain old house!

"Of course it's nice and roomy and all that--and a long time ago it must have been fashionable, but you just _ought_ to see Brenda Chisholm's father's new house on the Drive--why, it's like a _palace_!" She enlarged, then, upon its grandeur until Pat felt deep chagrin that her father had preferred to live on in the old homestead rather than to move into a newer part of the city.

Pat knew that she loved the old library with its deep fireplace and the rows of book shelves reaching to the ceiling and the long, deep windows overlooking the slope of lawn between her house and Sheila's, the old paintings on the walls and the softly colored rugs; she knew that her own room, over the library, held all her memories of nursery days; that she loved the way the morning sun, streaming in through the little conservatory where the birds sang among the flowers, turned to gold the dark oak panels of the dining-room. However, it must seem shabby to Angeline after she had visited Brenda's new home! She looked at the more modern houses they were passing, great piles of stone and marble surrounded by well-kept lawns, and resolved to urge her Daddy to move immediately!

One morning, a week after Angelina's arrival, the girls found themselves with nothing to do. Aunt Pen had taken Renee out for a walk in the Park. The sun was shining warmly, buds were appearing on the lilac bushes, everywhere was the hint of spring. Aunt Pen had declared she had heard an oriole, she and Renee had started in search of the songster's nest. Pat had watched them depart with a little longing in her heart and a hurt that they had not even asked her and Angeline to go with them! Yet she knew how Angeline would have scoffed at the suggestion of a walk in the Park!

Angeline now was arranging and rearranging her hair before the mirror. Pat was crossly wishing she'd stop--she'd been fussing there for ages! "What'll we do?" she asked, as Renee's and Aunt Pen's figures disappeared up the street.

"Oh, let's go out somewhere for lunch. Then we can shop. You know, I think it's a _shame_ your aunt doesn't buy you some decent things! If _I_ were you I'd just go and get them myself! My goodness, you're too old to be dressed like a little kid. How the girls at school will laugh when I tell them!"

Pat's face flushed crimson. Angeline went on in her persuasive voice; "If you don't just show your independence _sometime_ they'll go on treating you like a child! Of course it's none of my business, but you're my dearest friend and I _do_ feel sorry for you! And I can help you pick out--oh, just a few things!"

Pat gave her head a little toss! "Shall we walk or ride?" she asked, mutely yielding to Angeline's tempting.

"Oh, dear me, ride, of course! I couldn't walk a _block_ in those heels!" and Angeline extended one of the bargain pumps for a loving inspection.

It was necessary, before they started forth, for Pat to open her treasure box in the Eyrie and take from it the crisp six dollar bills which she had ready for her Victory pledge, due on April first. This, with her week's allowance, seemed a great deal of money and would surely meet the expenses of their outing.

As they whirled along the street toward the shopping section of the city Pat caught Angeline's gay mood. With a little thrill she told herself that they were embarked upon an adventure! At Angeline's suggestion they lunched at a fashionable restaurant, always thronged at the noon-hour. Emboldened by Angeline's composed manner, Pat gradually lost her own awkward consciousness and enjoyed to the fullest the gay bustle and confusion, the clatter of china, the music rising discordantly above the endless chatter at the tables.

"_This_ is more like what we girls do at school," declared Angeline, dipping her pink finger-tips into the glass bowl before her. "And now let's go to the stores and find some things for you!"

Under Angeline's direction this was an absorbing process. She recalled a love of a taffeta dress they had seen in a window. Of course it could be charged--everyone must know who Miss Everett was! Fortunately for the success of their shopping they found a clerk who had often sold dresses to both Mrs. Everett and Celia. Anxious to make a sale, she assured Pat that the dress would look beautiful on her! She shook out its flounces temptingly as she said it. Angeline added that the flame-colored chiffon collar was "chic--everyone's wearing them in New York!" Pat was promptly thrilled with a mental picture of herself in the stylish gown!

"Of course your aunt will look cross for a moment," Angeline whispered, "but it's really none of her business is it? I know _my_ mother likes to have _me_ look after myself!"

So Pat bought the dress, gave the address, and carried it away with her in a box. They then made other purchases; a silk and lace petticoat that Angeline declared a "love," some chiffon ties, a velvet bag with a jeweled top, a vanity case and a box of face powder.

"What _fun_!" cried Angeline, seizing some of the precious packages. "Now I tell you what let's do! Let's stop at that Madame Ranier's place and let her curl your hair and do it up! Then you'll look just peachy! _All_ the girls are wearing their hair up now--truly, Pat! Why, you'd be ridiculous in New York!"

They found Madame Ranier's and Pat spent an uncomfortable hour before the mirror while a yellow-haired young woman curled her pretty hair with long, hot irons. Angeline hovered over them both, giving suggestions from time to time and exclaiming over the transformation. The hairpins hurt cruelly and Pat had a feeling that she could never move her head again; however, in spite of all this, she was secretly satisfied, as was Angeline and Madame and the young woman, that the result was most becoming and that she looked quite "grown-up!"

Then Angeline caught her arm. "Now, silly, just stand still _one_ moment and I'll have you looking _really_ like something," and to complete her afternoon's work, she dabbed at Pat's nose with the tiny powder puff she carried in her bag.

As they marched forth Pat tried to assume an airiness of manner she did not feel. Between their luncheon and Madame Ranier she had spent almost all of her money; the purchases she had had charged began to trouble her soul. Angeline stopped suddenly at Brown's window--she saw a book there that she declared she must have! All the girls were reading it! She ran in without another word and Pat could do nothing but follow her. The book, "All on a Summer's Day," was purchased and Pat paid for it out of what remained of her money.

"Prin said we younger girls couldn't read it, but guess she can't say anything to me now!"

"Now to wind up this jolly day, Pat--_I'll_ treat," Angeline said, edging toward a chocolate shop.

As they sat down at one of the little tables Pat saw across the room Garrett and Peggy Lee and Keineth Randolph. Her first thought was to join them but something in their faces stopped her. In that moment's exchange of glances, though the girls had nodded pleasantly enough, Pat read surprise, disgust, and outright amusement!

A deep crimson dyed her face, in funny contrast to the powdery whiteness of her nose. Trying to assume an indifferent air she turned her back on the others and devoted herself to Angeline; her pride and satisfaction had fled, though, leaving her deeply hurt, not so much because of the girls' suppressed ridicule as by the thought that they had not invited her and Angeline to join them.

Then Garrett added the last drop to her humiliation! As they trooped out, giving a passing smile to Pat and her guest, Garrett slyly poked Pat in the back and, leaning over, whispered: "Where'd you lose your ears, Miss Everett?" Involuntarily Pat clapped her hands to the curly puffs that were pinned carefully over her ears and threw Garrett a wrathful look!

But her adventure was ending most dismally! Reaching home she threw her boxes and bags and the book on her bed and fiercely shook out the miserable hairpins! For ten minutes she brushed the offending curls and then braided them into a tight pigtail. If Aunt Pen noticed the work of Madame Ranier's young woman, or the daub of powder still decorating the bridge of Pat's nose, she said nothing; neither did she question Pat concerning her absence at luncheon. She and Renee were in high good humor, they had had a happy afternoon and Renee was herself again.

"Pat, dear, don't you think--Renee is all better now--we might have some sort of a party in honor of Angeline?"

Angeline's expressive face brightened. She was always prettily agreeable when with the family. She clapped her hands to express her delight.

"Let's have a dinner dance," she cried; then--"oh, how _dreadful_ of me to speak right out--like that!" and she affected deep embarrassment.

"I had in mind a picnic at Hill-top on Saturday. The roads are open and we can all motor out, have lunch and then go to the sugar camp. The sap is running well, Mrs. Lee says."

Aunt Pen kept her eyes on her knitting and did not see the blank look of astonishment that crossed Angeline's face. Pat had exclaimed eagerly over the suggestion:

"I've never seen a sugar camp, have you, Renee?"

"Then I will tell Mrs. Lee that we will all go, Sheila and Peggy and Keineth, and Garrett may ask some of the boys. Garrett can drive their car too."

The next morning Angeline stayed locked in her room until after eleven o'clock. Then, hearing Pat in the adjoining room, she suddenly threw open the door and appeared fully dressed, even to the henna hat. To Pat's exclamation of astonishment she answered:

"I'm going back on the Empire! Will you tell Watkins? Now _don't_ be a silly and make a fuss, Pat--just tell your aunt that I had a telegram! Jule wrote that everything was smoothed over and that I was missing some fun! So you _don't_ think I'm going to stay any longer in _this_ dead hole!" She snuggled her face in the Pekinese. "You've been a _dear_ to keep me, Pat, but, you poor child, couldn't you see I was just bored to _death_? And a sugar-party! Oh, la, la--_won't_ the girls laugh? Why, I wouldn't be seen _dead_ at one!"

Slowly Pat stiffened until she stood as though made of stone. Her lips tried to frame the tumult of wrath that raged within her, but she only managed to say lamely: "I'll tell Watkins--if you've really--got to go!"

So Angeline and her dog and her bags of finery departed and ten minutes later, the rage in Pat's soul bursting all bounds, she presented herself at Aunt Pen's door, her arms filled with the hateful purchases of the day before, her face red with the effort to choke back her tears.

Aunt Pen had just come in. So she was amazed when Pat burst out: "She's gone and I'm glad of it! I just _hate_ her! She said we were stupid and that Sheila was common--and she was--bored to death and we--we weren't fashionable--and--and she wouldn't be seen _dead_ at a sugar-party! As if anyone wanted her, anyway!"

"Pat, dear, one thing at a time! Who's gone? Angeline?"

Pat dumped her boxes on the floor and sitting like a little girl on Aunt Pen's lap told of Angeline's dramatic departure. She could not see the smile that stole over Aunt Pen's face; she could not know that the sugar-party had been planned to bring about just what had happened! Wise Aunt Pen had decided that Pat had had just about as much of Angeline's company as was good for her! She listened to the tale of the shopping, glanced at each purchase, then patted the hair that was still curly.

"Poor Patsy, what a time you've had!"

"But I hate her, Aunt Pen, and I hate myself for ever having let her say Sheila was common! Dear old Sheila!"

"Well, dear, you've learned something in values--all around! Sheila, even though her life is a continual sacrifice of all the pleasures and luxuries most girls have, is a finer girl and a more worth-while friend than poor Angeline--and I think the _next_ time you'll stand up for her, won't you, my dear? Now, for the book--_that's_ the place for that," aiming it at the waste-basket, "and if you want some novels I'll find you some that are more thrilling and better brain-food. Your curls"--she fondled the dark head--"they _are_ pretty, Pat--it's too bad we aren't all born with curly hair and there's no particular harm in having it curled, only--it does take _so_ much time that could be spent in some much better way! And after a few years you can do up these braids and be a young lady, but for awhile longer we want our Pat a girl that can romp and play and get all the joy that youth alone offers!"

"Oh, Aunt Pen, you make me feel as if I'd been so silly! But what on _earth_ will I do with all these things!" and Pat kicked at the offending boxes.

"Well," Aunt Pen glanced appraisingly over the spilled contents. "You can give the bag to Melodia and the vanity case to Maggie and we'll just go back with the other things and ask the store manager to exchange them for--what do you say to shoes for all the Kewpies?"

"Oh, joy! For Easter! Oh, you're _such_ a comfort, Aunt Pen!"

"Seriously, Pat, do you feel that you really need a dress? Perhaps I have neglected you!"

"Oh, gracious no, I don't want to fuss with any more clothes! That's all Angeline talked about! Let's take this truck back right after luncheon!"

"Pat, dear, just a moment," Aunt Pen still had a little sermon tucked away in her mind. "You mustn't hate Angeline--when you think all this over you'll realize she has taught you a valuable lesson--perhaps you, too, have given her something in return! Each one of us has within us much that we give all unknowingly to others, that helps them. Think how much little Renee has taught you with her unselfish companionship and Sheila, who is so brave and cheerful and honest, and Peggy and all the others! And you must think that you, too, in turn, through your friendship, give them something of what is good in you! Can you understand what I mean? So let Angeline go away with grateful thoughts in your heart--she is silly now but some day she may outgrow all that and be a fine girl!"