style="font-size:15px;"> "Mercy no! I mean mentally. You seem more—more grown up like."
"Everybody is, since the war work. Yes, Phil, I have grown,—I hope."
"There, there," warned Patty; "no serious talk just now, please,—and no war talk. For the moment, I claim your attention to my new house and its surroundings."
"Some claim you've staked out," and Chick grinned. "I want to see it all.
And,—moreover,—I want to see the rest of the family!"
Patty beamed. "You dear!" she cried; "do you really want to see my daughter?"
"My daughter," Farnsworth added; "but I didn't know you chaps would be interested in our infant prodigy. I never cared about seeing other people's babies."
"I do," stoutly insisted Channing. "I'm a connoisseur on kiddies. Let me see him."
"He isn't him," laughed Patty, "he's a she."
"So much the better," Chick avowed. "I love girl babies. Where is she?"
"You can't see her now, she's probably asleep. To-morrow she'll be on exhibition. I hear a car! It must be Mona!"
"I'll go and fetch her," said Farnsworth, springing up, and after a short time he returned with two newcomers, Mona Farrington and her husband, Roger.
Then there was more greeting and exclamation and laughter, as the latest guests admired the new home, and accepted Patty in her becoming role of hostess.
"To think of little Patty as the chatelaine of this palatial ménage!" said Roger, "and actually acting as if it belonged to her!"
"It isn't palatial," corrected Patty, "but it does belong to me,—that is, to me and my friend William. He vows I claim the baby for all my own property,—but I'll accord him a share in the place."
"It all belongs to me," said Farnsworth, with a careless sweep of a big arm. "The wistaria, Patty, the baby, and all!"
"That's right," agreed Roger, "keep up your air of authority as long as you can! I tried it,—but Mona soon usurped the position!"
"Nonsense!" and Mona smiled at her husband. "Don't you believe him, Patty. We go fifty-fifty on everything,—as to decisions, I mean. He gives in to my superior judgment half the time, and I let him have his own foolish way the other half. Follow my plan and you'll live happily, my dear."
"Are we your first company?" asked Elise.
"Yes,—except Father and Nan,—and a few calls from the neighbours. This is my first house-party. And I do want it to be a success, so I'm going to depend on you all to help me. If I do what I ought not to do,—or leave undone the things which I should ought to do,—check me up,—won't you, please?"
"We sure will," agreed Channing, "but something tells me you're going to prove an ideal hostess."
"She will," nodded Farnsworth, "she takes to hostessing like a duck to water. She even asked me what sort of smokes you chaps prefer."
"I hope you remembered," said Roger. "And when are they to be passed around?"
"Right now," said Patty, smiling and nodding to the maid who hovered near.
In truth, Patty was a born hostess, and without fuss or ostentation always had the comfort of her guests in mind. While not overburdened with a retinue of servants, she had enough to attend to everything she required of them; and her own knowledge and efficiency combined with her tact and real kindliness brought about a state of harmony in her household that might well have been envied by an older and more experienced matron.
Mrs. Chase, who had the nominal position of housekeeper, found herself strictly accountable to Patty for all she did, and as she was sensible enough to appreciate Patty's attitude, she successfully fulfilled the requirements of a butler or steward, and had general charge and oversight of all the housekeeping details.
"The way to keep house," said Patty to Mona and Elise, as she took them away with her, leaving the men to their "smokes," "is not so much to work yourself as to be able to make others work in the way you want them to."
"That's just it," agreed Mona, "and that's just what I can't do! Why, my servants rode over me so, and were so impudent and lazy, I just gave up housekeeping and went to a hotel to live. We had to,—there was no other way out."
"And how Roger hates it!" said Elise, who, as Roger's sister, thought herself privileged to comment.
A cloud passed over Mona's face. "He does," she admitted, "but what can I do? He hated worse the scenes we had when we were housekeeping."
"Perhaps conditions will get better now," said Patty, hopefully, "and you can try again, Mona, with better results."
"Maybe; and perhaps you can teach me. You used to teach me lots of things, Patty."
"All right,—I'll willingly do anything I can. Now, who wants to see my angel child? Or would you rather go to your rooms first?"
"No, indeed," cried Elise, "let me see her right now. If she's as pretty as the wistaria vine—oh, Patty, why don't you name her Wistaria?"
"Gracious, what a name! No, she's Fleurette,—or so Little Billee says.
Anyway, here she is."
Patty led them to the nursery, and from the lacy draperies of the bassinette a smiling baby face looked up at them.
"What a heavenly kiddy!" Elise exclaimed, "Oh, Patty, what a daffodil head! Just a blur of yellow fuzz! And such blue eyes! She looks exactly like you! And exactly like Bill, too. Oh, I never saw such a darling baby. Let me take her,—mayn't I?"
"Yes, indeed. She's no glass-case baby."
Elise picked up the dear little bundle, and cooed and crooned in most approved fashion.
Apparently Fleurette understood, for she smiled and gurgled, and seemed to look upon Elise as an old friend.
Mona admired the baby but was more interested in the house.
"Show me everything," she begged Patty. "I want to see it all. Where's your linen closet?"
"My linen closet is a room," and Patty led them thither. "You see, we have such a lot of rooms and,—such a lot of linen,—that I took this little bedroom for a linen press. I had a carpenter put in the shelves and cupboards just as I wanted them,—and here's the result."
With justifiable pride, Patty showed her linen collection. Sheets, towels, tablecloths,—each sort in its place, each dozen held by blue ribbon bands, that fastened with little pearl buckles.
Other shelves held lace pieces, luncheon sets, boudoir pillow-cases, table scarfs, and all the exquisite embroidered bits that are the delight of the home lover.
"Perfectly wonderful!" Elise declared; "looks just like a shop in Venice or Nice. How do you keep them so tidy? and where did you ever get so many?"
"Oh, I've done quite some shopping to get our Lares and Penates together, and Bill let me get whatever I wanted in the house furnishing line. Yes, this linen room is my joy and my pride. See, this cupboard is all curtains. I do love to have fresh curtains as often
