CHAPTER XIV

A GREAT SUCCESS

Patty always declared afterward, that Chick hypnotised her, and that she _never_ would have done it, had she been in her right mind.

But, on the spur of the moment, carried away with the spirit of the thing, knowing that it was then or never, and taunted by the “_dare_,” Patty stepped up on the low chair, and said, “People Dear” before she realised what she was about. Then, like a flash, an acute realisation of what she had done, came over her, followed with lightning-like swiftness by the knowledge that she _must_ go on. To go on was the only possible justification for having gone so far. So, go on, she did.

“Dear People, listen a minute. This is unconventional and all that, I know,—but just hark. Here is a little girl, a beautiful and well-born child, for somebody’s adoption. Who wants her? Surely among all of you there is some woman-heart who could love this dear baby enough to give her a home. Look at her! Is she not charming? And as bright and affectionate as she is pretty. Kiss your hand to the people, Milly.”

Milly always obeyed the slightest wish of her beloved Patty, and with the most adorable smiles, and coy glances from her big, dark eyes, she blew kisses from her tiny fingertips.

“Now love Mr. Chick,” went on Patty, shaking in her shoes, lest this might try Channing’s endurance beyond its limit.

But he was game, and when Milly’s dimpled arms went round his neck and she laid her soft cheek against his hair, and crooned a few little love notes, the audience applauded with delight.

“You see,” went on Patty, “this baby is homeless. I want to give her to a kind, wise and loving woman. No others need apply. I will say no more now, but any one who is interested may speak to me about it either here and now, or at my home. I will tell all particulars to any one who wants the baby, and will be the right mother for her.”

Flushed with the excitement of the moment, Patty made a deprecating little bow, and stepped down from the low chair.

There was a moment’s silence, and then Milly’s high, thin little voice piped out: “Me fink Patty booful!”

This disarmed criticism and everybody laughed, while a ripple of applause floated through the room. And then half a dozen of the ladies moved toward the end of the room where Patty and Milly were.

They were followed by others, for all wanted to see more closely the interesting mite, and the unusual circumstance roused curiosity even among those who had no thought of taking the child.

But it seemed several did want her, or at least wanted to investigate the matter.

Channing, by Patty’s side, helped to answer questions. He was an invaluable aid, for his quick wit and pleasant personality made for a clear understanding of the case.

“Nonsense, Mrs. Fanning,” he said to a gay young matron, “you don’t want another olive branch! You’ve five at home, now!”

“I know it, but this is such a heavenly baby, and my youngest is eight. I’d love to have this cherub, though I don’t know what Mr. Fanning would say——”

“Now, you musn’t be greedy,” said Chick, smiling; “be content with your own little brood, and let somebody take Milly, who really needs an angel in the house.”

Milly did not become frightened at the amount of curious attention she received, but serene and sweet, smiled happily at all, and cuddled close to Patty.

It was not difficult to discover who was really in earnest among the inquirers. Some were charmed by the baby’s attractions, but had no thought of taking her to keep. Others looked at her wistfully, but for one reason or another were unable to adopt her. But there were three who were positive of their desire for the child, and each of the three was determined to have her.

“I offered first,” argued Mrs. Chaffee, a haughty dame, whose dark eyes blazed angrily, as she noted Patty’s indifference to her claim. “I wish to have the child, and I can give her every advantage.”

“So can I,” said Miss Penrose, a delightful middle-aged spinster, who wanted an heir to her fortune and a pet to lavish her affection upon. “I want her very much. I can devote all my time and attention to her. She shall have the best of education and training, and my wealth shall all be hers.”

Patty considered. Miss Penrose was of aristocratic family, and her prestige was undeniable. She would give all care and study to a most careful, correct bringing up of the baby, and Milly’s future would be assured. But, and Patty did not herself realise at first why she objected to Miss Penrose, until it suddenly dawned on her that it was because the lady had no sense of humour! Patty was sure she would take the upbringing of Milly so seriously that the sunny baby would become a little automaton. This was instinctive on Patty’s part, for she knew Miss Penrose only slightly, but the earnestness of the lady was very apparent.

Smilingly holding the question in abeyance, Patty listened to the plea of the third applicant. This was Mrs. Colton, a sad-faced, sweet-eyed young widow. Two years before, a motor accident had snatched from her her husband and baby girl, and had left her for a time hovering between life and death. Only of late, had she listened to her friends’ urging to go among people once more, and this tea was almost her first appearance in society since her tragic affliction.

With tears in her eyes, she said to Patty: “I _must_ have the baby. She is not unlike my little Gladys, and she would be to me a veritable Godsend. I have thought often of adopting a child, and this is the one I want. I love her already. Will you come to me, Milly?”

Milly eyed her. For a moment the two looked at each other intently. There was a breathless pause, and all who were near felt the dramatic intensity of the moment. Mrs. Colton smiled, and it may have been that Milly read in that smile all the pent-up mother-love and longing, for she dropped Patty’s hand and walked slowly toward the lady,—her little arms outstretched. Reaching her, she threw her arms about her neck, exclaiming, “I fink you’s booful!”

This phrase was her highest praise, and as Mrs. Colton’s arms closed round the child, no one could doubt that these two hearts were forever united.

“I hope you _will_ take her, Mrs. Colton,” said Patty, earnestly; “you are made for each other.”

“Indeed, I will take her, if I may. In fact, I cannot let her go!” and the tear-dimmed eyes, full of affection, gazed at the little cherub.

“But _I_ want her,” declared Mrs. Chaffee. “I asked for her first, and I think it most unfair——”

“I’m not auctioning the baby, Mrs. Chaffee,” said Patty, smiling at the determined lady; “it isn’t a question of who asked first. Milly and Mrs. Colton are too perfectly suited to each other to let me even consider any other mother for the child. Please give up all thought of it, for I have made up my mind.”

Miss Penrose was more acquiescent, and nonchalantly presumed she could get an equally pretty baby from an asylum. To which Patty heartily agreed.

It was arranged that Patty should take Milly home with her for a few days, till Mrs. Colton could prepare for her reception. Also, she promised to call in her lawyer and see about the legal processes of adoption in this most unusual case.

All unwitting of the plans for her destiny, Milly beamed impartially on everybody, and went with Patty to make adieux to the hostess.

“I do apologise,” said Patty, smiling, “for this eccentric performance. But when you know me better, dear Mrs. Meredith, you will expect strange happenings when I’m about. All my friends know this.”

The speech was a clever one, for Mrs. Meredith greatly desired to be classed among the friends of Patty Fairfield, the society belle.

“It was charming of you,” she returned, “to choose my drawing-room for your pretty project. I trust you will always feel free to avail yourself of any opportunity I can offer.”

Milly made her dear little curtsey; Channing murmured polite phrases, and they went away.

“Well!” said Chick, as they whirled along homeward, “we came, we saw, and you bet we conquered! How about it?”

“I should say we did!” and Patty’s face glowed with satisfaction and happiness. “There’s nobody I’d rather give Milly to than Mrs. Colton. She’s a perfect dear, and her great sorrow has left her with an aching, hungry heart, that this little scrap of happiness can fill.”

“You were a brick, Patty! I didn’t think you’d dare do it.”

“I couldn’t have, if I’d stopped to think. But you dared me—and I never could refuse a dare!”

“Then I claim some of the credit of the success of our scheme.”

“All of it, Chick. I never should have dreamed of such an unheard of performance! What _will_ Nan say?”

“Let’s go in and see; may I come in?”

“Yes, do. I want you to back me up, if they jump on me.”

But they didn’t. Though Nan and Mr. Fairfield were utterly astounded at the story they heard, they had only praise for the result.

“The very one!” declared Nan. “Mrs. Colton is a lovely woman, and her wealth and education and refined tastes will insure Milly exactly the right kind of a home for life. Oh, Patty, it’s fine! But what _did_ Mrs. Meredith think?”

“Oh,” said Patty, airily, “as it was the illustrious Me, she was overjoyed to have her house turned into an auction room! She would have been equally delighted if I’d made a bear garden of it.”

“You conceited little rascal,” said her father, shocked at this self-esteem.

“No, it wasn’t _my_ idea. You all know _my_ overweening modesty. But Chick, here, said that the parvenu element in the lady’s soul would be kindly disposed toward,—well, let us say, toward the daughter of Frederick Fairfield.”

This turning of the tables made them all laugh, but Channing said, “It’s quite true. I know the Meredith type, and I was sure that to be made conspicuous by an acknowledged social power, like our Patty, would be unction to her soul.”

“Well, it was a crazy piece of business,” said Mr. Fairfield, “but as it turned out so admirably, we can’t complain. It is right down splendid, to get the little one taken by such a fine woman as Mrs. Colton. I’m sure it will be a most successful arrangement. And we owe you a vote of thanks, Channing, for bringing it about.”

“Oh, I’m only accessory before the fact. Patty did it. I wish you could have seen her when she mounted that chair! It was as good as a play. Her do-or-die expression, concealed beneath a society smile, was a whole show!”

“I don’t care, I accomplished my purpose,” and Patty beamed with satisfaction; “but it was mostly because Chick dared me!”

“Let us hope I’ll always be present at any crisis in your life to dare you!” said Channing. “It’s an easy way to achieve great results.”

* * * * *

When Patty’s friends heard of her episode, they bombarded her with telephone messages and notes and calls concerning it. Some chaffed her and others praised, but all were agog over the matter. Even Mrs. Van Reypen telephoned to know if the report she had heard were true.

“What did you hear?” asked Patty.

“That you went to a tea and auctioned off a baby.”

“No, that isn’t quite the true version of what happened. Now, I’ll tell you.”

“No, don’t. I can’t bear to talk over the telephone. Come and see me, and bring that child along. I want to see it.”

Mrs. Van Reypen’s wish was usually looked upon as a command, and the next afternoon Patty started off with Milly to call on her elderly friend.

“What a baby! Oh, _what_ a baby!” was the greeting the child received, for Mrs. Van Reypen was most enthusiastic. “Why didn’t you keep her yourself? How can you let her go? I never saw such a lovely baby!”

“She is,” agreed Patty, smiling, as Milly curtsied to Mrs. Van Reypen over and over again. “But I couldn’t keep her. I don’t want the care and responsibility of a kiddy. Would you have liked to take her?”

“I believe I would, if you had offered me the chance. But no, I am too old to train a baby now. Do you know, though, Patty, the care of orphan children has always appealed to me as one of the best of philanthropies. I sometimes think even yet I will start a home for such little waifs. I mean a real homelike sort of a place,—not the institution usually founded for such a purpose.”

“It would be a splendid thing, Lady Van. Go ahead, and do it. I will help you, if I can.”

“Would you, Patty? Would you give of your time and interest to help establish the thing, and be one of the workers for it?”

“Yes, I would. I don’t want the entire responsibility of little Milly, but I am glad I’ve found a good home for her. And if there are other similar little unfortunates, and of course there are, I’d be more than willing to help you in a project to make them happy and cared for.”

“Well, I’ll remember that, and I think I’ll set about planning for it. I’m getting older all the time, and what I do, ought to be begun soon. Patty, you are very dear to me,—you know that?”

“It’s kind of you to say so, Lady Van, and I do appreciate and greatly value your affection for me. I wish I could do something to show my love in return, and if you decide to go into this scheme of yours, call on me for any help I can give.”

“Thank you, dear. But, Patty, there is another way in which you could greatly please me,—if you—but I think you know.”

Patty did know what was coming, but she affected ignorance. “’Most any way, Lady Van, I’m glad to please you, but I think this Orfling Home plan the most feasible and practicable. When shall us begin?”

“But I’m not thinking of that just now. Patty, you dear girl,—don’t you—_can’t_ you bring yourself to care for Philip?”

“Oh, I do care for Phil. I care for him a lot. We’re the greatest chums. He’ll help us with the new scheme, won’t he?”

“But I mean to care for him, especially. The way he cares for you.”

“Now, dear Lady Van, let’s not discuss that today. I’m so busy getting this matter of Milly fixed up, I can’t turn to other topics. Don’t you think it would be nice for me to get a sort of wardrobe together for her, before she goes to Mrs. Colton’s?”

“No. I think it would be ridiculous! Mrs. Colton has plenty of means, and she has taste and knows what is right and proper for the child far better than you do. Give the baby a parting gift if you like—I’ll give her one myself. I’ll give her a silver porringer. She’s ’most too big for a porringer, but she can keep it for an heirloom. The one I mean to give her is an old Dutch one of real value. But, Patty, as to Philip.”

“Not now, please, Lady Van, dear,” and Patty put her fingers to her ears.

“Well, some other time, then. But, Patty, if you could learn to care for my boy, I’d—I’d make you my heir.”

“Oh, fie, fie, Lady Van! You’re trying to buy my young affections? Now, you mustn’t do that. And, too, don’t you know that the best way to make me dislike Phil is to continually urge him upon me.”

Mrs. Van Reypen looked a little taken aback at this, and immediately dropped the subject, for which Patty was devoutly thankful. She did like Philip, but she did not want his aunt arranging affairs for her, for Patty was an independent nature, and especially so where her plans for her own future were concerned.

So she gladly turned the conversation back to the matter of the Children’s Home, and soon realised that Mrs. Van Reypen was greatly in earnest about it, and that it might soon become a reality.