Great was the rejoicing and celebration when Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield returned from their wedding trip. They came to the apartment to remain there for a few days before moving to the new house.

Patty welcomed Nan with open arms, and it was harder than ever for her to attend to her studies when there was so much going on in the family.

The furnishing of the new house was almost completed, but there remained several finishing touches to be attended to. As Patty’s time was so much occupied, she was not allowed to have any hand in this work. Mrs. Allen had come on from Philadelphia to help her daughter, and Grandma Elliott assisted in dismantling the apartment, preparatory to giving it up.

So when Patty started to school one Friday morning, and was told that when the session was over she was to go to her new home to stay, she felt as if she were going to an unexplored country.

It was with joyful anticipations that she put on her hat and coat, after school, and started home.

Her father had given her a latch-key, and as she stepped in at the front door, Nan, in a pretty house dress, stood ready to welcome her.

“My dear child,” she said, “welcome home. How do you like the prospect?”

“It’s lovely,” said Patty, gazing around at as much as she could see of the beautiful house and its well-furnished rooms. “What a lot of new things there are, and I recognise a good many of the old ones, too. Oh, Nan, won’t we be happy all here together?”

“Indeed we will,” said Nan. “I think it’s the loveliest house in the world, and mother and Fred have fixed it up so prettily. Come up and see your room, Patty.”

A large, pleasant front room on the third floor had been assigned to Patty’s use, and all her own special and favourite belongings had been placed there.

“How dear of you, Nan, to arrange this all for me, and put it all to rights. I really couldn’t have taken the time to do it myself, but it’s just the way I want it.”

“And this,” said Nan, opening a door into a small room adjoining, “is your own little study, where you can be quiet and undisturbed, while you’re studying those terrific lessons of yours.”

Patty gave a little squeal of delight at the dainty library, furnished in green, and with her own desk and bookcases already in place.

“But don’t think,” Nan went on, “that we shall let you stay here and grub away at those books much of the time. An hour a day is all we intend to allow you to be absent from our family circle while you’re in the house.”

“An hour a day to study!” exclaimed Patty. “It’s more likely that an hour a day is all I can give you of my valuable society.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Nan, wagging her head wisely. “You see I have some authority now, and I intend to exercise it.”

“Ha,” said Patty, dramatically, “I see it will be war to the knife!”

“To the knife!” declared Nan, as she ran away laughing.

Patty looked about her two lovely rooms with genuine pleasure. She was like a cat in her love of comfortable chairs and luxurious cushions, and she fully appreciated the special and individual care with which Nan and her father had considered her tastes. Had she not been so busy she would have preferred to have a hand in the arranging of her rooms herself, but as it was, she was thankful that someone else had done it for her.

Hastily throwing off her hat and coat, she flung herself into a comfortable easy chair by her library table, and was soon deep in her French lesson.

A couple of hours later Nan came up and found her there.

“Patty Fairfield!” she exclaimed. “You are the worst I ever saw! Get right up and dress for dinner! Your father will be home in a few minutes, and I want you to help me receive properly the master of the house.”

Patty rubbed her eyes and blinked, as Nan pulled the book away from her, and said, “Why, what time is it?”

“Time for you to stop studying, and come out of your shell and mingle with the world. Wake up!” and Nan gave Patty a little shake.

Patty came to herself and jumped up, saying, “Indeed, I’m glad enough to leave my horrid books, and I’m hungry enough to eat any dinner you may set before me. What shall I wear, Nan?”

“Put on that pretty light blue thing of yours, with the lace yoke. This is rather a festival night, and we’re going to celebrate the first dinner in our new home.”

So Patty brushed her curly hair and tied on a white ribbon bow of such exceeding size and freshness that she looked almost as if wings were sprouting from her shoulders. Then she donned her light blue frock, and went dancing downstairs, to find that her father had already arrived.

“Well, Pattikins,” he said, “can you feel at home in this big house, after living so long in our apartment?”

“Yes, indeed,” said Patty, “any place is home where you and Nan are.”

The dinner passed off gaily enough. Only the three were present, as Nan did not want any guests the first night.

Although the dining-room appointments were those that had furnished the Fairfields’Vernondale home, yet they were so augmented by numerous wedding gifts of Nan’s that Patty felt as if she were at a dinner party of unusual splendour.

“It’s lovely to live in a house with a bride,” she said, “because there are such beautiful silver and glass things on the table, and on the sideboard.”

“Yes,” said Nan, glancing around her with satisfaction. “I intend to use all my things. I think it’s perfectly silly to pack them away in a safe, and never have any good of them.”

“But suppose burglars break in and steal them,” said Patty.

“Well, even so,” said Nan, placidly, “they would be gone, but it wouldn’t be much different from having them stored away in a safe deposit company.”

“Nan’s principle is right,” said Mr. Fairfield. “Now, here’s the way I look at it: what you can’t afford to lose, you can’t afford to buy. Remember that, Patty, and if ever you are tempted to invest a large sum of money in a diamond or silver or any portable property, look upon that money as gone forever. True, you might realise on your possession in case of need, but more likely you could not, and, too, there is always the chance of losing it by carelessness or theft. So remember that you can’t afford to buy what you can’t afford to lose.”

“That’s a new idea to me, papa,” said Patty, “but I see what you mean and I know you are right. However, there’s little chance of my investing in silver at present, for I can just as well use Nan’s.”

“Of course you can,” said Nan, heartily; “and whenever you want to have company, or a party of any kind, you’ve only to mention it, and not only my silver, but my servants and my own best efforts are at your disposal.”

“That’s lovely,” said Patty, “and I would love to have parties and invite the schoolgirls and some of the boys, but I can’t take the time now. Why, I couldn’t spare an evening from my studies to entertain the crowned heads of Europe.”

“Nonsense,” said Mr. Fairfield, “you mustn’t work so hard, Puss; and anyway you’ll have to spare this evening, for I asked Hepworth to drop in, and I think two or three others may come, and we’ll have a little informal housewarming.”

“Yes,” said Patty, dubiously, “and Kenneth said he would call this evening, and Elise and Roger may come in. So, as it’s Friday evening, I’ll see them, of course; but after this I must study every evening except Fridays.”

A little later on, when a number of guests had assembled in the Fairfields’ drawing-room, Patty looked like anything but a bookworm, or a pale-faced student. Her eyes danced, and the colour glowed in her pretty face, for she was very fond of merry society, and always looked her prettiest when thus animated.

She and Elise entertained the others by quoting some bits from the school play, Nan sang for them, and Kenneth gave some of his clever and funny impersonations.

Mr. Hepworth declared that he had no parlour tricks, but Patty asserted that he had, and she ran laughing from the room, to return with several large sheets of paper and a stick of drawing charcoal. Then she decreed that Mr. Hepworth should draw caricature portraits of all those present. After a little demurring, the artist consented, and shrieks of laughter arose as his clever pencil swiftly sketched a humorous portrait of each one.

“It’s right down jolly,” said Kenneth to Patty, “your having a big house of your own like this. Mayn’t I come often to see you? Mrs. Nan is so kind, she always has a welcome for me.”

“You may come and accept her welcome whenever you like,” said Patty, “but I can’t promise to see you, Ken, except Friday evenings. Honestly, I don’t have one minute to myself. You see, we rehearse the play afternoons, and evenings I have to study, and Saturday is crammed jam full.”

“But she will see you, Kenneth,” said Nan, who had heard these remarks. “We’re not going to let her retire from the world in any such fashion as she proposes; so you come to see us whenever you like, and my word for it, Patty will be at home to you.”

Nan passed on, laughing, and Patty turned to Kenneth with an appealing glance.

“You know how it is, don’t you, Ken? I just have to stick to my work like everything, or I won’t pass those fearful examinations, and now that I’ve made up my mind to try for them, I do want to succeed.”

“Yes, I know, Patty, and I fully sympathise with your ambitions. Stick to it, and you’ll come out all right yet; and if I should call sometimes when you’re studying, just say you’re too busy to see me, and it will be all right.”

“What an old trump you are, Ken. You always seem to understand.”

But as the days passed on, Patty found that other people did not understand. Her study hours were continually interrupted. There were occasional callers in the afternoon, and when Nan presented herself at the study door, and begged so prettily that Patty would come down just this once, the girl hadn’t the heart to refuse. Then there was often company in the evenings, and again Patty would be forced to break through her rules. Or there were temptations which she really couldn’t resist,—such as when her father came home to dinner, bringing tickets for the opera, or for some especially fine play.

Then, Nan had a day each week on which she received her friends, and on these Thursdays Patty was supposed also to act as hostess. Of course this pleasant duty was imperative, and Patty always enjoyed the little receptions, though she felt guilty at losing her Thursday afternoons. Almost invariably, too, some of the guests accepted Nan’s invitation to remain to dinner, and that counted out Thursday evening as well.

Altogether, poor Patty was at her wits’ end to find any time to herself. She tried rising very early in the morning and studying before breakfast, but she found it difficult to awaken early, and neither Nan nor her father would allow her to be called.

So she was forced to resort to sitting up late, and studying after the rest of the household had retired. As her room was on the third floor, she had no difficulty in pursuing this plan without anyone being aware of it, but burning the midnight oil soon began to tell on her appearance.

One morning at breakfast, her father said, “Patty, child, what is the matter with you? Your eyes look like two holes burnt in a blanket! You weren’t up late last night?”

“Not very,” said Patty, dropping her eyes before her father’s searching gaze.

Nothing more was said on the subject, but though Patty hated to do anything secretly, yet she felt she must continue her night work, as it was really her only chance.

So that night as she sat studying until nearly midnight, her door slowly opened, and Nan peeped in. She wore a kimono, and her hair was in a long braid down her back.

“Patty Fairfield,” she said, “go to bed at once! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, to sit up so late when you know your father doesn’t want you to.”

“Now, look here, Nan,” said Patty, talking very seriously, “I have to sit up late like this, because I can’t get a minute’s time through the day. You know how it is. There’s always company, or something going on, and I can’t wake up early in the morning, and I have to sit up late at night, even if it does make me tired and sleepy and good for nothing the next day. Oh, Nan, instead of hindering and making fun of me, and bothering me all you can, I think you might try to help me!”

Patty threw herself on her knees, and burying her face in Nan’s lap, burst into a convulsive flood of tears.

Nan was thoroughly frightened. She had never before seen Patty cry, and this was more than crying. It was almost hysterical.

Then, like a flash, Nan saw it all. Overwork and worry had so wrought on Patty’s nerves that the girl was half sick and wholly irresponsible for her actions.

With a ready tact, Nan patted the golden head, and gently soothed the excited child.

“Never mind, Patty, darling,” she said, “and try to forgive me, won’t you? I fear I have been rather blind to the true state of the case, but I see more plainly now, and I will help you, indeed I will. I will see to it that you shall have your hours for study just as you want them, and you shall not be interrupted. Dear little girl, you’re all tired out, and your nerves are all on edge, and no wonder. Now, hop along to bed, and you’ll see that things will go better after this.”

As she talked, Nan had gently soothed the excited girl, and in a quiet, matter-of-fact way, she helped her prepare for bed, and finally tucked her up snugly under her down coverlet.

“Good-night, dearie,” she said; “go to sleep without a bother on your mind, and remember that after this Nan will see to it that you shall have other times to study than the middle of the night.”

“Good-night,” said Patty, “and I’m sorry I made such a baby of myself. But truly, Nan, I’m bothered to death with those old lessons and the play and everything.”

“That’s all right; just go to sleep and dream of Commencement Day, when all the bothers will be over, and you’ll get your diploma and your medal, and a few dozen bouquets besides.”

And with a final good-night kiss, Nan left the worn-out girl and returned thoughtfully to her own room.

CHAPTER VI
BUSY DAYS

Nan was as good as her word. Instead of trying to persuade Patty not to study so hard, she did all she could to keep the study hours free from interruption.

Many a time when Nan wanted Patty’s company or assistance, she refrained from telling her so, and unselfishly left the girl to herself as much as possible.

The result of this was that Patty gave herself up to her books and her school work to such an extent that she allowed herself almost no social recreation, and took little or no exercise beyond her walks to and from school.

This went on for a time, but Patty was, after all, of a sensitive and observing nature, and she soon discovered, by a certain wistful expression on Nan’s face, or a tone of regret in her voice, that she was often sacrificing her own convenience to Patty’s.

Patty’s sense of proportion rebelled at this, and she felt that she must be more obliging to Nan, who was so truly kind to her.

And so she endeavoured to cram more duties into her already full days, and often after a hard day’s work in school, when she would have been glad to throw on a comfortable house gown and rest in her own room, she dressed herself prettily and went out calling with her stepmother, or assisted her to receive her own guests.

Gay-hearted Nan was not acutely observant, and it never occurred to her that all this meant any self-sacrifice on Patty’s part. She accepted with pleasure each occasion when Patty’s plans fell in with her own, and the more this was the case, the more she expected it, so that poor Patty again found herself bewildered by her multitude of conflicting duties.

“I have heard,” she thought to herself one day, “that duties never clash, but it seems to me they never do anything else. Now, this afternoon I’m sure it’s my duty to write my theme, and yet I promised the girls I’d be at rehearsal, and then, Nan is so anxious for me to go shopping with her, that I honestly don’t know which I ought to do; but I believe I’ll write my theme, because that does seem the most important.”

“Patty,” called Nan’s voice from the hall, “you’ll go with me this afternoon, won’t you? I have to decide between those two hats, you know, and truly I can’t take the responsibility alone.”

“Oh, Nan,” said Patty, “it really doesn’t matter which hat you get, they’re both so lovely. I’ve seen them, you know, and truly I think one is just as becoming as the other. And honest, I’m fearfully busy to-day.”

“Oh, pshaw, Patty. I’ve let you alone afternoons for almost a week now, or at least for two or three days, anyhow. I think you might go with me to-day.”

Good-natured Patty always found it hard to resist coaxing, so with a little sigh she consented, and gave up her whole afternoon to Nan.

That meant sitting up late at night to study, but this was now getting to be the rule with Patty, and not the exception.

So the weeks flew by, and as commencement day drew nearer, Patty worked harder and her nerves grew more strained and tense, until a breakdown of some sort seemed imminent.

Mr. Fairfield at last awoke to the situation, and told Patty that she was growing thin and pale and hollow-eyed.

“Never mind,” said Patty, looking at her father with an abstracted air, “I haven’t time now, Papa, even to discuss the subject. Commencement day is next week, to-morrow my examinations begin, and I have full charge of the costumes for the play, and they’re not nearly ready yet.”

“You mustn’t work so hard, Patty,” said Nan, in her futile way.

“Nan, if you say that to me again, I’ll throw something at you! I give you fair warning, people, that I’m so bothered and worried that my nerves are all on edge, and my temper is pretty much the same way. Now, until after commencement I’ve got to work hard, but if I just live through that, I’ll be sweet and amiable again, and will do anything you want me to.”

Patty was half laughing, but it was plain to be seen she was very much in earnest.

Commencement was to occur the first week in June, and the examinations, which took place the week before, were like a nightmare to poor Patty.

Had she been free to give her undivided attention, she might have taken them more calmly. But her mind was so full of the troubles and responsibilities consequent on the play, that it was almost impossible to concentrate her thoughts on the examination work. And yet the examinations were of far more importance than the play, for Patty was most anxious to graduate with honours, and she felt sure that she knew thoroughly the ground she had been over in her studies.

At last examinations were finished, and though not yet informed of her markings, Patty felt that on the whole she had been fairly successful, and Friday night she went home from school with a heart lighter than it had been for many weeks.

“Thank goodness, it’s over!” she cried as she entered the house, and clasping Nan around the waist, she waltzed her down the hall in a mad joy of celebration.

“Well, I am glad,” said Nan, after she had recovered her breath; “now you can rest and get back your rosy cheeks once more.”

“Not yet,” said Patty gaily; “there is commencement day and the play yet. They’re fun compared to examinations, but still they mean a tremendous lot of work. To-morrow will be my busiest day yet, and I’ve bought me an alarm clock, because I have to get up at five o’clock in order to get through the day at all.”

“What nonsense,” said Nan, but Patty only laughed, and scurried away to dress for dinner.

When the new alarm clock went off at five the next morning, Patty awoke with a start, wondering what in the world had happened.

Then, as she slowly came to her senses, she rubbed her sleepy eyes, jumped up quickly, and began to dress.

By breakfast time she had accomplished wonders.

“I’ve rewritten two songs,” she announced at the breakfast table, “and sewed for an hour on Hilda’s fairy costume, and cut out a thousand gilt stars for the scenery, and made two hundred paper violets besides!”

“You are a wonder, Patty,” said Nan, but Mr. Fairfield looked at his daughter anxiously. Her eyes were shining with excitement, and there was a little red spot on either cheek.

“Be careful, dear,” he said. “It would be pretty bad if, after getting through your examinations, you should break down because of this foolish play.”

“It isn’t a foolish play, Papa,” said Patty gaily; “it’s most wise and sensible. I ought to know, for I wrote most of it myself, and I’ve planned all the costumes and helped to make many of them. One or two, though, we have to get from a regular costumer, and I have to go and see about them to-day. Want to go with me, Nan?”

“I’d love to go,” said Nan, “but I haven’t a minute to spare all day long. I’m going to the photographer’s, and then to Mrs. Stuart’s luncheon, and after that to a musicale.”

“Never mind,” said Patty, “it won’t be much fun. I just have to pick out the costumes for Joan of Arc and Queen Elizabeth.”

“Your play seems to include a variety of characters,” said Mr. Fairfield.

“Yes, it does,” said Patty, “and most of the dresses we’ve contrived ourselves; but these two are beyond us, so we’re going to hire them. Good-bye, now, people; I must fly over to see Elise before I go down town.”

“Who’s going with you, Patty, to the costumer’s?” asked her father.

“Miss Sinclair, Papa; one of the teachers in our school. I am to meet her at the school at eleven o’clock. We are going to the costume place, and then to the shops to buy a few things for the play. I’ll be home to luncheon, Nan, at one o’clock.”

Patty flew away on her numerous errands, going first to Elise Farrington’s to consult on some important matters. Hilda and Clementine were there, and there was so much to be decided that the time passed by unnoticed, until Patty exclaimed, “Why, girls, it’s half-past eleven now, and I was to meet Miss Sinclair at eleven! Oh, I’m so sorry! I make it a point never to keep anybody waiting. I don’t know when I ever missed an engagement before. Now, you must finish up about the programmes and things, and I’ll scurry right along. She must be there waiting for me.”

The school was only two blocks away, and Patty covered the ground as rapidly as possible. But when she reached there Miss Sinclair had gone. Another teacher who was there told Patty that Miss Sinclair had waited until twenty minutes after eleven, and then she had concluded that she must have mistaken the appointment, and that probably Patty had meant she would meet her at the costumer’s. So she had gone on, leaving word for Patty to follow her there, if by any chance she should come to the school looking for her.

Patty didn’t know what to do. The costumer’s shop was a considerable distance away, and Patty was not in the habit of going around the city alone. But this seemed to her a special occasion, and, too, there was no time to hesitate.

She thought of telephoning to Nan, but of course she had already gone out. She couldn’t call her father up from down town, and it wouldn’t help matters any to ask Elise or any of the other girls to go with her. So, having to make a hasty decision, Patty determined to go alone.

She knew the address, and though she didn’t know exactly how to reach it, she felt sure she could learn by a few enquiries. But, after leaving the Broadway car, she discovered that she had to travel quite a distance east, and there was no cross-town line in that locality. Regretting the necessity of keeping Miss Sinclair waiting, Patty hurried on, and after some difficulty reached the place, only to find that the costumer had recently moved, and that his new address was some distance farther up town.

Patty did not at all like the situation. She was unfamiliar with this part of the town, she felt awkward and embarrassed at being there alone, and she was extremely sorry not to have kept her engagement with Miss Sinclair.

All of this, added to the fact that she was nervous and overwrought, as well as physically tired out, rendered her unable to use her really good judgment and common sense.

She stood on a street corner, uncertain what to do next; and her uncertainty was distinctly manifest on her countenance.

The driver of a passing hansom called out, “Cab, Miss?” And this seemed to Patty a providential solution of her difficulty.

Recklessly unheeding the fact that she had never before been in a public cab alone, she jumped in, after giving the costumer’s number to the driver. As she rode up town she thought it over, and concluded that, after all, she had acted wisely, and that she could explain to her father how the emergency had really necessitated this unusual proceeding.

It was a long ride, and when Patty jumped out of the cab and asked the driver his price, she was a little surprised at the large sum he mentioned.

However, she thought it was wiser to pay it without protest than to make herself further conspicuous by discussing the matter.

She opened the little wrist-bag which she carried, only to make the startling discovery that her purse was missing.

Even as she realised this, there flashed across her memory the fact that her father had often told her that it was a careless way to carry money, and that she would sooner or later be relieved of her purse by some clever pickpocket.

Patty could not be sure whether this was what had happened in the present instance, or whether she had left her purse at home. As she had carried change for carfare in her coat pocket, she had not expected to need a large sum of money, and her confused brain refused to remember whether she had put her purse in her bag or not.

She found herself staring at the cabman, who was looking distrustfully at her.

“I think I have had my pocket picked,” she said slowly, “or else I left my purse at home. I don’t know which.”

“No, no, Miss, that won’t go down,” said the cabman, not rudely, but with an uncomfortable effect of being determined to have his fare. “Pay up, now, pay up,” he went on, “and you’ll save yourself trouble in the end.”

“But I can’t pay you,” said Patty. “I haven’t any money.”

“Then you didn’t ought to ride. It ain’t the first time I’ve knowed a swell young lady to try to beat her way. Come, Miss, if you don’t pay me I’ll have to drive you to the station house.”

“What!” cried Patty, her face turning white with anger and mortification.

“Yes, Miss, that’s the way we do. I s’pose you know you’ve stole a ride.”

“Oh, wait a minute,” said Patty; “let me think.”

“Think away, Miss; perhaps you can remember where you’ve hid your money.”

“But I tell you I haven’t any,” said Patty, her indignation rising above her fear. “Now, look here, I have a friend right in here at this address; let me speak to her, and she’ll come out and pay you.”

“No, no, Miss; you can’t ketch me that way. I’ve heard of them friends before. But I’ll tell you what,” he added, as Patty stood looking at him blankly, “I’ll go in there with you, and if so be’s your friend’s there and pays up the cash, I’ve nothing more to say.”

The hansom-driver climbed down from his seat and went with Patty into the costumer’s shop.

A stolid-looking woman of Italian type met them and enquired what was wanted.

“Is Miss Sinclair here?” asked Patty eagerly.

“No, Miss, there’s nobody here by way of a customer.”

“But hasn’t a lady been here in the last hour, to look at costumes for a play?”

“No, Miss, nobody’s been here this whole morning.”

“You see you can’t work that game,” said the cabman. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I guess you’ll have to come along with me.”