Confronting an astonished groom, she asked him in forcible, if not entirely correct French, whether there was an assistant chauffeur, or any groom who could run a motor car.

She was informed that there was not, that Ma'amselle's chauffeur himself and the groom who had accompanied him were the only ones in the establishment who knew anything about automobiles. If Mademoiselle desired a coach, now?

But Mademoiselle did not desire a coach, and, moreover, Mademoiselle seemed to know perfectly well what she did desire.

Beckoning to the groom, who followed her, she went straight to the garage where the automobiles were kept. There was a touring car there, almost the same as the one she had driven that afternoon, and Patty looked at it uncertainly.

There was also a small runabout, but that was of a different make, of which she knew nothing.

"Get in," she said briefly to the groom, and she pointed to the tonneau.

Accustomed to implicit obedience, the groom got in, hatless as he was, and folding his arms stiffly, sat up as straight as if it were a most usual experience.

"Hop up in front, Rosamond," went on Patty, "and don't try to stop me, for I'm going to do exactly this; I'm going to the station and catch Ma'amselle before she gets on that seven o'clock train. There isn't one-half second to spare; we can't even get our hats, and if we should stop to talk it over with anybody, there'd be no use in going at all. Now hush up, Rosamond, don't say a word to me, I've all I can do to manage this thing!"

As Rosamond hadn't said a word, Patty need not have insisted on her silence. But Patty was so excited that it made her quick of speech and a little uncertain of temper.

She started slowly out of the garage, trying to remember exactly the instructions she had so often received about starting. They went safely out into the park road, and along toward the porter's lodge. Patty's heart beat fast as she wondered uncertainly whether the porter would open the gate for her or not, but she carried off matters with a high hand, and ordered in the name of Ma'amselle Labesse that the gate be opened, and it was. Through it they went, and out on to the high road. Patty put on a higher speed, and they flew along like mad.

"Now you can speak if you want to, Rosamond," she said in a strained, tense voice; "or no, perhaps you'd better not, either. There's something the matter! The engine thumps; but it's all right, I know what to do. If only the road keeps smooth,—if we come to no ditches,—if we don't burst a tire! speak to me, Rosamond, do for goodness' sake say something!"

"It's all right, Patty," said Rosamond, in a quiet voice, for she knew that the greatest danger that threatened Patty was her own over-excitement. "You're all right, Patty; keep on just as you are; be careful of this down grade, and you can easily take the next hill."

"Good for you, Rosamond," said Patty, with a really natural laugh; "you're a brick! My nerves ARE strained, but I won't think of that, I'll think only of my car. Oh Rosamond, if only the road isn't bad in any place!"

"It isn't, Patty, the road is perfect. Steady, now, dear, there's a motor coming, but you can easily pass it. Don't you reverse or something?"

"Keep still, Rosamond, do keep still! I know what to do!" Rosamond kept still.

On they flew, the wind in their faces cutting like a cold blast; their hair became loosened as it streamed back from their foreheads.

It was the excitement of danger, and 'way down in their hearts both girls were enjoying it, though they did not realise it at the moment. What the statuesque groom who sat up behind felt, nobody will ever know. He kept his head up straight, and his arms folded, and his face showed a brave do-or-die expression, though there was nobody to notice it.

"Oh, Rosamond," Patty went on, still in that breathless, gasping voice, "if I only knew what time it was. There's no use whizzing at this break-neck speed if we're not going to make the train after all! If I thought it would be of any use I'd coast down this hill, but why should we kill ourselves if we don't accomplish our object?"

"Patty, don't be a goose!" and again Rosamond's cool, common-sense tones acted as a dash of cold water on Patty's overstrung nerves. "I'll tell you what time it is. You keep right on with your knitting, and I can get out my watch as easily as anything, and the next time we pass a light I'll inform you the hour."

Reassured by Rosamond's sense and nonsense, Patty drove steadily on.

"It's five minutes to seven," announced Rosamond quietly, "but we can already see the railroad lights in the distance, and besides, the train is sure to be late. But, Patty, you can't go quite so fast as we get into the town. You musn't! You'll be arrested!"

"They can't catch me," cried Patty, as she flew on, "and do keep still, Rosamond, for goodness' sake keep still!"

Rosamond smiled to herself at Patty's command to her to keep still, for she well knew it was merely a nervous exclamation and meant nothing.

On they went, Patty sounding the horn when it was unnecessary, and failing to sound it when it was needed, but this made no difference in their speed. Fortunately they met very few vehicles of any sort, and had the good luck not to run over any dogs, but as they came in full view of the station, they saw the train also approaching from the other direction.

Patty knew that she had just about time to cross the track, but no more.

Instead of worrying her, this sudden last responsibility seemed to steady her nerves, and she said quietly:

"It's all right, Rosamond. Don't speak, please, we've just time to cross the track safely,—SAFELY. See, I'll open up the throttle,—just a little more power,—and here we go, bounding over the track!"

They seemed to jump over the track, and with a round turn, Patty made the corner, put on the brake and came to a full stop at the station just as the funny little French train wheezed in.

But the girl could do no more; as the car came to a standstill Patty's hands dropped from the wheel, and she promptly fainted away.

With no notion of losing the game at the last moment, Rosamond sprang from the car, calling to the groom to look out for Patty, and then ran, panting, to the train.

She grasped the old Ma'amselle as she was about to step on the train, and forcibly pulled her away.

Owing to the old lady's angry and excited exclamation at being thus detained, she could not understand what Rosamond was trying to tell her.

"Make her comprehend!" she cried to the maid, who was accompanying her mistress, "make her understand, quick! she must not go to Paris! Monsieur Henri is at the Chateau!"

But the French maid could understand no English, and in despair Rosamond turned to the group of people who had gathered about them.

Her dignity suddenly returned, and her common sense with it.

"Will somebody who can talk French," she said, "explain to this lady that she need not go to the house of her nephew with the broken arm, because he is already at the Chateau of his aunt."

The moment she had uttered this sentence, its resemblance to the Ollendorff exercises struck Rosamond as very funny, and she began to giggle.

But the old Ma'amselle at last understood the state of the case, and, her face beaming with smiles, she turned away from the train and back to the station.

Patty had come to herself after her momentary unconsciousness, and was all right once more, though physically tired from her exciting exertions.

Ma'amselle's own chauffeur was overcome with amazement when he learned what Patty had done, and took off his cap to her, with the air of one offering homage to a brave heroine.

As for Ma'amselle, she petted Patty, and cried over her, and thanked her, and blessed her, to an extent that could not have been exceeded had Patty saved her from the guillotine.

Then Patty was packed into the back seat of the big car, with Ma'amselle on one side of her and Rosamond on the other. And with this precious freight the chauffeur started off, leaving the groom who had gone with the first party to bring home the other car.

Though there was not much talking done on the way home, Ma'amselle held Patty's hand closely clasped in her own, and the girl felt well repaid by the old lady's unspoken gratitude for the trouble and danger she had undergone.

When they reached home, and Ma'amselle had warmly welcomed her nephew, there was great to-do over Patty's daring journey.

"All's well that ends well," said Elise, "but you'll catch it, Patty Fairfield, when mother hears of your performance. If I had been in Rosamond's place you would have had to drive that car out over my dead body!"

"That's why I didn't take you, Elise," said Patty, laughing; "I knew you'd raise a terrible row about my going, while Rosamond obeyed my orders like a meek little lamb."

"You should at least have let me accompany you, Mademoiselle Fairfield," said Philippe Baring; "I cannot drive an automobile, I regret to say, but I might have been a protection for you."

Patty didn't see any especial way in which Mr. Baring could have protected her, but she didn't say so, and only thanked him prettily for his interest in her welfare.

Henry Labesse was enthusiastic in his admiration and praise of Patty, and declared that American girls were wonders.

Ma'amselle was so pleased to think she had been saved a useless trip to Paris, and to think that she should be able now to spend the evening with her young guests, and above all, to think that her beloved nephew was with her, that she hovered around like an excited butterfly from one to another.

Then she sent them all away to dress for dinner, which, though belated, was to be a merry feast.

And, indeed, it proved so.

Old Ma'amselle came down first, and stood in the grandest drawing-room to receive her honoured guests.

The three boys came next, in their immaculate evening dress, which Henri had managed to get into in spite of his sling.

Then came the girls, the three, as usual, walking side by side, with their arms about each other. They had carried out their plan of red, white and blue dresses, and made a pretty picture as they entered the drawing-room, and bowed in unison to their hostess.

The dinner was especially elaborate as to decorations, and confections that would please the young people, and the chef had done his very best to make his part of the occasion a worthy one.

Henri Labesse proved to be an exceedingly jolly young man, quite bubbling over with gay spirits and witty sallies He did not hesitate to joke with his aunt, who, notwithstanding her dignity, was never offended at her nephew's bantering speeches.

The other two boys, though a trifle more formal than Henri, and perhaps a little bit shy, after the manner of very young Frenchmen, were willing to do their share, and as our three American girls were in the highest of spirits, the feast was a gay one, indeed.

Ma'amselle gazed around at her brood with such delight and satisfaction that she almost forgot to eat.

Over and over again she wanted it explained to her how Henri had broken his arm in his gymnasium class, how he had thought he would not be able to go to St. Germain, and so had telegraphed his aunt to come to him, and how, later, the doctor had patched him up so that he could go, and he had followed close upon the heels of a second telegram.

The delayed message arrived while they were at dinner, and Henri twisted it up, and lighting it at a candle flame, burned it, saying it was a bad spirit which had worked them ill, but which should trouble them no more.

Then Ma'amselle wanted to hear again all about Patty's wonderful ride, the difficulties she had encountered, the nerve strain she had experienced, and the help and comfort Rosamond had been to her.

"And," concluded Patty as she wound up her recital, "I don't want any one to tell Mrs. Farrington about it, because I want to tell her myself."

Elise smiled, for she well knew that Patty's wheedlesome ways would persuade Mrs. Farrington to look leniently on the episode, although it had, indeed, been a desperately dangerous piece of business.

But Ma'amselle Labesse asserted that after she had said what she had to say to Mrs. Farrington, she knew that Patty would not be reprimanded by her, but rather be deemed worthy of the Cross of the Legion of Honour.

Patty smiled at them all, in reality caring little, even if she were reprimanded. She knew she had done a daring thing, but she had kept her head, and had come through it safely, and having won, she felt it was her right to laugh.

"Are all American girls so brave and fearless?" inquired Mr. Villere.

"I think most of them are," said Patty, "but you must understand I was not recklessly daring. I have had many lessons in motoring, and I'm a fairly expert driver. Of course, everybody is liable to accidents, and I took my chances on them, but not on my driving."

"You took chances on losing your head," remarked Rosamond.

"So did Marie Antoinette," returned Patty saucily, "but you see I fared better than she did."

CHAPTER XVIII
A NEW YEAR FETE

The next morning was the day of the New Year. As usual, every one did as he or she chose during the morning hours, but luncheon time brought them all together again.

The three boys had been out of doors all the morning, and seemed glad to return again to the society of the American strangers.

The girls had been happy enough by themselves, and though they liked the French boys well enough, had privately agreed that they were not half as nice as American boys.

But half a dozen young people, if good-natured and enthusiastic, are bound to have a merry time together, and as the six grew better acquainted their national differences wore away somewhat.

Ma'amselle announced that the fete of the day would be an early evening party, followed by a supper.

She had invited the neighbouring gentry, both young and old, as was her custom on Jour de L'AN, and, as she explained, she was making it "more of an elaborateness" this year by asking her guests to come in fancy costumes.

This delighted the girls, for they all loved dressing up, but they had no notion where their fancy costumes were to come from.

But Ma'amselle replied, "It is arranged," and during the afternoon she led them to a large apartment which she called the Room of the Robes.

Here she displayed to the enraptured girls costume after costume of wonderful beauty and magnificence.

The Labesse line had been a long one, and apparently its ladies had never worn out or given away any of their robes. Nor its men either, for there were costumes of knights and courtiers, some of which would surely fit the three young men at present under the Chateau roof.

The girls were bewildered at the maze of costumes, and scarcely knew which to select.

Finally Patty chose a bewitching Watteau affair, with a short quilted petticoat, and a looped overdress made of the daintiest flowered silk imaginable. The petticoat was of white satin, and the overdress of palest blue, with garlands of pink roses. The pointed bodice laced up over a dainty neckerchief, and it was further adorned with borders of pearls.

Rosamond pounced upon a scarlet and gold brocade, which she declared was her ideal of a perfect gown.

Elise found a pink brocatelle, embroidered with silver, and after they had selected head-dresses, fans, and many accessories to their costumes, they scurried away to their own rooms to try them on.

"Aren't we having the time of our life?" exclaimed Rosamond, as she peacocked about, gazing over her shoulder at her long court train.

"Yes, indeed," said Patty, with a little sigh of content; "I adore this dressing-up performance, and really, girls, those boys are quite human under their French polish."

"They're not so bad," said Elise, "if only they wouldn't bow so often, and so exactly like dancing masters."

"Well, it's all fun," said Patty, "and I'm going to get that awfully nice Francoise to do my hair. She can make it just like an old French picture. Would you powder it?"

"No," said Elise, after a moment's consideration; "the powder shakes off all over everything and you can't make it really white, anyway; and besides, Patty, your hair is too pretty a colour to disguise with powder."

"Thank you for the compliment, Elise, though a little belated; all right, then, I'll leave my tow-coloured tresses their natural shade, and decorate them with strings of pearls and light blue ostrich tips."

The pearls and feathers and the manipulations of Franchise's artistic fingers transformed Patty's head into the semblance of an old French miniature, and even Patty herself cast an approving glance at the pretty reflection in the gilt-framed mirror.

The girls were wild with enthusiasm over Patty's appearance, though truth to tell, their own effects were scarcely less picturesque.

But Patty's style lent itself peculiarly well to the Watteau dress, and her little feet with their dainty silk stockings and high-heeled paste-buckled slippers twinkled beneath the quilted petticoat with all the grace of a real Watteau picture.

When they were ready, they walked down stairs, single file, with great pomp and dignity, to find awaiting them three polished young courtiers, who might have belonged to the Court of Versailles.

Ma'amselle herself was scarcely disguised, for in her ordinary costume she never strayed very far from the styles and materials of her beloved ancestors.

But she had on a royal robe, with a great jewelled collar, and strings of gems depending from her throat. She wore a coronet that had belonged to some of the ladies of her family, and she seemed more than ever a chatelaine of a bygone day.

The rooms were decorated with flowers and plants, in honour of the occasion, and hundreds of wax lights added to the brilliancy of the scene.

An orchestra of stringed instruments played delightful music, and Patty tried to forget entirely that she lived in the twentieth century, and pretended that time had been turned back many, many years.

The guests began to arrive, and though their costumes were of great variety, they were nearly all of French effects, and quite in harmony with the scene. Patty did not seem to care much to converse, or even to dance, but wandered around in a blissful state, enjoying the picturesque scene.

"Probably I shall never see anything like this again," she thought to herself, "and I just want to gaze at it until it is photographed on my mind forever. Oh, won't it be fun to tell Nan and papa about it!"

Just then she saw Henri Labesse approaching her.

"I fear I shall be awkward, Mademoiselle," he said, glancing at his arm in a sling, "but if you would forgive, and dance with me just once?"

"Of course I will," said Patty, her kind heart full of sympathy for the poor fellow. "We can manage quite nicely, I'm sure."

Henri put his good arm round Patty's waist, and lightly laying her hand on his shoulder, they glided away. Like most Frenchmen, young Labesse was a perfect dancer, and as Patty was skilled in the art, they danced beautifully together and seemed to be in no way impeded by the young man's broken arm.

"What a dance!" exclaimed Patty, as the music stopped; "I never met any one who dances as well as you do. If you dance like that with one arm, what would do with two?"

"All the merit of my dancing was due to my partner," said Henri, with one of his best bows, "you are like a fluff of thistledown, or a will o' the wisp. Forgive me, but I had imagined that American ladies danced like—like automobiles."

Patty laughed. "If you hadn't already paid me such a pretty compliment," she said, "I should be angry with you for that speech. But if you wish to know the truth of the matter, go and dance with Elise and Rosamond, and then come back and tell me what you think of American dancing."

Henri went away obediently, leaving Patty to decide among the group of partners who were begging her for a dance.

Later on Henri returned. "You are right," he said gravely; "the American demoiselles are, indeed, divine dancers; but, may I say it? they are yet not like you. Will you not give me one more turn, and then I must dance no more to-night; my aunt forbids it, on the absurd score that I'm an invalid."

Willingly, Patty danced again with the young man, and as this time it was a fancy dance, the exquisite grace of the couple soon attracted the attention of the onlookers. One by one the other couples ceased dancing, until at last Patty and Henri were alone upon the waxed floor, while the others looked admiringly on. Inspired by the moment, Patty indulged in some fancy steps, which were quickly understood and repeated by Henri, and depending on a whispered word now and then for direction, they advanced and retreated, bowed and chasseed in an elaborate and exquisite minuet.

Henri's disabled arm, so far from being an obstacle to his grace, seemed to lend a certain quaint dignity to his movements, and in his court dress he looked like a wounded knight who had returned triumphant from the tourney, to dance with his fair lady.

Great applause followed the final figure of their dance, and Henri led pretty Patty, blushing with the honours heaped upon her, to his aunt. The old Ma'amselle kissed her dear little friend, and the tears in her eyes told Patty how much she had enjoyed the scene.

Then came the feast, which was all gaiety and merriment, and finally, by general acclamation, Patty was about to be crowned Queen of the New Year.

This, however, she would not allow, and taking the crown which was offered her, she went over and placed it on the white hair of her hostess, remarking that Ma'amselle was queen, and she herself the first lady in waiting.

The picture of pretty Patty as she stood by the side of the regal old lady, who sat, crowned, in her own chair of state, was worthy of a painter, and many who saw it wished it might have been transferred to canvas.

The festival broke up early, for the old Ma'amselle would not allow late hours for her children, and as soon as the last guest was gone she sent them scampering to bed, with strict injunctions for them not to reappear until noon the next day.

The next day was ushered in by a dismal, pouring rain, and certain outdoor pleasures which were planned for the afternoon had to be given up.

"But I'll tell you what we will do," announced Patty as they gathered in the great hall after luncheon, "we'll have an afternoon of American fun, and we'll show you French boys some tricks you never saw before."

Having asked permission from Ma'amselle, who would not have refused her had she asked to build a bonfire on the drawing-room carpet, Patty took her friends to the kitchen.

The fat old chef was amazed, but greatly pleased that the American demoiselles should honour his precincts, and he put himself, his assistants and all his pantries at their service.

"First," said Patty, "we're going to have a candy pull."

The French boys had no notion what a candy pull might be, but they were more than willing to learn.

A difficulty arose, however, when Patty undertook to explain to old Cesar, the CHEF, that she wanted molasses. She didn't know the French word for molasses, and when she tried SIROP, Cesar affably flew around and brought her such a variety of SIROPS that she was overwhelmed. Nor were they of any use to her, for they were merely sweet essences of various fruits, and nothing like good old New Orleans molasses.

Cesar was desolate that he could not please Patty, and berated his assistants down to the scullion for not knowing what the American young lady wanted.

As soon as he could for laughter, Henri helped matters out by explaining that what was desired was MELASSE.

"Ah! OUI, OUI, OUI!" exclaimed the delighted Cesar, and he sent the kitchen boys flying for the right thing at last.

Laughing herself at the absurdity of making molasses candy, with the assistance of half a dozen French cooks, Patty proceeded to measure out cupfuls of the treacle and pour it into a skillet.

She was enchanted with the immaculate purity and spotlessness of the French kitchen, which even that of a New England housewife cannot rival.

She had set the boys to cracking nuts and picking them out, and when the time came, she added butter and a dash of vinegar to her boiling candy, watched with great interest by Cesar, whose French repertoire did not include any such strange mess as this.

After the candy was poured out into the pans, and partly cooled, the pulling began.

Patty never liked this part of the performance herself, and she frankly said so, stating that if the others wanted to pull the taffy she would show them how. Elise declined, but Rosamond pulled away briskly, using only the tips of her fingers, and with a practiced touch, until her portion of candy became of a beautiful cream colour and then almost white. After watching her a few moments, Cesar caught the trick, and taking a large panful, pulled and tossed it about with such dexterity that they all applauded.

Henri, of course, could not join in the sport, but Philippe and Cecil undertook it bravely, though, meeting with difficulties, they soon gave it up.

"It Is a knack," said Patty, "and though I can do it fairly well, I hate it because it's so messy. But Cesar is an artist at it, so suppose we let him do the rest."

Cesar willingly consented to this plan, and the young people ran away, leaving him to finish the taffy.

"Next," said Patty, as after much washing of hands they had again assembled in the glass parlour, "I'm going to teach you to play bean bags."

Elise and Rosamond set up a shout of laughter at this, and the boys looked politely inquisitive.

Calling a footman, Patty, who greatly enjoyed the joke of being waited upon to such an absurd degree, asked him pleasantly to bring her some beans. She chose her French carefully, designating what she wanted by the term haricots.

"Oui, Mademoiselle," said the obsequious footman, hurrying away on his errand. He quickly returned, bearing a tin of French beans on a silver tray.

Patty burst into laughter, and so did the rest of them, though only Elise and Rosamond knew what the joke was about.

"Non, Non!" exclaimed Patty, between her peals of laughter; "beans, beans! oh, wait a minute, I'll tell you, I'll tell you; stop, let me think!"

After a moment's hard thought, she triumphantly exclaimed, "Feve!"

"Oui, oui, oui," exclaimed the footman, comprehendingly, and away he stalked once more. This time he returned with a large silver dish full of coffee beans, neither roasted nor ground.

These Patty accepted with many thanks. "I don't believe," she said, "that they have real bean-bag beans in this benighted country, and these will answer the purpose just as well."

Then again summoning her best French to her aid, she asked the footman to procure for her some pieces of material—cloth or cotton—and she indicated the size with her finger, also asking him to bring a work-basket. Then with an exhausted air she sat back in her chair and waited.

"Patty, you do beat the Dutch!" said Elise; "you know he can't find such things."

"Can't he?" said Patty complacently; "something tells me that that able footman will return with material for bean-bags."

The boys were looking on with great amusement, though only half understanding what it was all about. They understood English, and nearly all of Patty's French, but BEAN-BAGS was an unknown word to them.

True to Patty's prophecy the clever footman returned, still grave and immovable of countenance, but bearing a well-filled work-basket, and a quantity of pieces of magnificent satin brocades which had been cut in six-inch squares—that being the size indicated by Patty.

Patty took them with a gracious air of satisfaction, and rewarded the footman with thanks in French and a smile in American.

"Now," she went on calmly, "I shall be pleased to have the assistance of you two ladies, as I fancy these young men are not any more accustomed to sewing than to pulling taffy."

But to her surprise Cecil declared himself an expert needleman, and proved it by stitching up a bean-bag, under Patty's direction, in most praiseworthy fashion.

Each of the girls made one, too, and when they were filled with the coffee beans, and sewed up, Patty was again overcome by merriment at the regal appearance of their satin brocaded bean-bags.

Then into the long hall they went, but alas! the girls could not bring themselves to toss bean-bags in an apartment so filled with fragile objects of value.

In despair Patty again consulted her friend the footman. As soon as he understood her dilemma, he assured her he would arrange all; and in less than fifteen minutes he came back to her, almost smiling, and invited the party to follow him.

They followed to the picture gallery, where the ingenious man had carefully placed a number of large, folding Japanese screens in front of the pictures to protect them from possible harm.

Patty was delighted at this contrivance, and then followed such a game of bean-bags as had probably never been seen before in all France.

The only drawback was that Henri could not take part in this sport, but as Patty said wisely, "One cannot have everything in France; and, at any rate, he can eat some of our American taffy, which must be cooled by this time."