which would, I'm sure, be a pleasure and profit to all concerned. With this suggestion I am quite ready to hear a positive and final decision from Her Honour, the Judge."
"And it won't take her long to make up her mind, either," cried Patty. "I knew you'd fix it somehow, papa; you are the best and wisest man! Solomon wasn't in it with you, nor Solon, nor Socrates, nor anybody! That arrangement is exactly what I choose, and suits me perfectly, I do want to stay in New York sometimes, but I would much rather live in Vernondale; so the judge hereby announces that, on the merits of the case, the question is decided in the negative. The Fairfields will buy a house in Vernondale, and the judge hopes that they will buy it quick."
"Three cheers for Patty and Uncle Fred," cried Frank, and while they were being given with a will, Marian flew to the telephone, and, when the cheers subsided, she was engaged in a conversation of which the debating club heard only one side.
"Is this you, Elsie?"
"What do you think? Patty's going to stay in Vernondale!"
"Yes, indeed, perfectly gorgeous."
"Just this evening; just now."
"I guess I am! I'm so glad I don't know what to do!"
"Oh, yes, of course she'll keep on being president."
"No, they haven't decided yet, but I want them to take the Bigelow house."
"Yes; wouldn't it be fine!"
"Oh, it isn't very late."
"Well, come over early to-morrow morning, then."
"Good-by."
"Elsie Morris is delighted," said Marian, as she hung up the receiver, "and Polly Stevens will just dance jigs of joy when she hears about it. I'd call her up now, only I'm afraid she'd break the telephone trying to express her enthusiasm; she flutters so."
"You can tell her about it to-morrow," said Frank, "and now let's talk about where the house shall be. Would you rather buy or build, Uncle Fred?"
"Perhaps it would be better to rent," said Mr. Fairfield. "Suppose my fickle daughter should change her mind, and after a visit in the city decide that she prefers it for her home."
"I'm not fickle, papa," said Patty, "and it's all arranged all right just as it is; but I don't want a rented house, they won't let you drive tacks in the walls, or anything like that. Let's buy a house, and then, if you turn fickle and want to move away, we can sell it again."
"All right," said Mr. Fairfield obligingly, "what house shall we buy?"
"I know just the one," cried Marian; "guess where it is."
"Would you, by any chance, refer to the Bigelow house?" inquired Frank politely.
"How did you know?" exclaimed Marian. "I only heard to-day that it is for sale, and I wanted to surprise you."
"Well, next time you have a surprise in store for us," said Frank, "don't announce it to Elsie Morris over the telephone."
"Oh, did you hear that?"
"As a rule, sister dear, unless you are the matron of a deaf and dumb asylum, you must expect those present to hear your end of a telephone conversation."
"Of course," said Marian; "I didn't think. But, really, wouldn't the Bigelow house be fine? Only a few blocks away from here, and such a lovely house, with a barn and a conservatory, and a little arbour in the garden."
Patty began to look frightened.
"Goodness, gracious me!" she exclaimed; "I don't believe I realise what I'm coming to. I could take care of the little arbour in the garden; but I wonder if I could manage a house, and a barn, and a conservatory!"
"And go to school every day, besides," said her father, laughing. "I think, my child, that at least until your school days are over, we will engage the services of a responsible housekeeper."
"Oh, papa!" cried Patty, in dismay, "you said I could keep house for you; and Aunt Alice has taught me lots about it; and she'll teach me lots more; and you know I can make good pumpkin pies; and, of course, I can dust and fly 'round; and that's about all there is to housekeeping, anyway."
"Oh, Patty," said Aunt Alice, "my lessons must have fallen on stony ground if you think that's all there is to housekeeping."
"That's merely a figure of speech, Aunt Alice," replied Patty. "You well know I am a thoroughly capable and experienced housekeeper; honest, steady, good-tempered, and with a fine reference from my last place."
"You're certainly a clever little housekeeper for your age," said her aunt, "but I'm not sure you could keep house successfully, and go to school, and practice your music, and attend to your club all at the same time."
"But I wouldn't do them all at the same time, Aunt Alice. I'd have a time for everything, and everything in it place. I would go to school, and practise, and housekeep, and club; all in their proper proportions--" Here Patty glanced at her father. "You see, if I had the proportions right, all would go well."
"Well, perhaps," said Mr. Fairfield, "if we had a competent cook and a tidy little waitress, we could get along without a professional housekeeper. I admit I had hoped to have Patty keep house for me and preside at my table, and at any rate, it would do no harm to try it as an experiment; then, if it failed, we could make some other arrangement."
"I guess I do want to sit at the head of our table, papa," said Patty; "I'd just like to see a housekeeper there! A prim, sour-faced old lady with a black silk dress and dangling ear-rings! No, I thank you. If I have my way I will keep that house myself, and when I get into any trouble, I will fly to Aunt Alice for rest and refreshment."
"We'll all help," said Marian; "I'll make lovely sofa-pillows for you, and I'm sure grandma will knit you an afghan."
"That isn't much towards housekeeping," said Frank. "I'll come over next summer and swing your hammock for you, and put up your tennis-net."
"And meantime," said Uncle Charley, "until the house is bought and furnished, the Fairfield family will be the welcome guests of the Elliotts. It's almost the middle of December now, and I don't think, Miss Patty Fairfield, that you'll get your home settled in time to make a visit in New York this winter; and now, you rattle-pated youngsters, run to bed, while I discuss some plans sensibly with my brother-in-law and fellow townsman."
Chapter III.
The Tea Club
"Well I should think you'd better stay in Vernondale, Patty Fairfield, if you know what's good for yourself! Why, if you had attempted to leave this town, we would have mobbed you with tar and feathers, or whatever those dreadful things are that they do to the most awful criminals."
"Oh, if I had gone, Polly, I should have taken this club with me, of course. I'm so used to it now, I'm sure I couldn't live a day, and know that we should meet no more, as the Arab remarked to his beautiful horse."
"It would be rather fun to be transported bodily to New York as a club, but I'd want to be transported home again after the meeting," said Helen Preston.
"Why shouldn't we do that?" cried Florence Douglass. "It would be lots of fun for the whole club to go to New York some day together."
"I'm so glad Patty is going to stay with us, I don't care what we do," said Ethel Holmes, who was drawing pictures on Patty's white shirt-waist cuffs as a mark of affection.
"I'm glad, too," said Patty; "and, Ethel, your kittens are perfectly lovely, but this is my last clean shirt-waist, and those pencil-marks are awfully hard to wash out."
"I don't mean them to be washed out," said Ethel, calmly going on with her art work; "they're not wash drawings, they're permanent decorations for your cuffs, and are offered as a token of deep regard