Clementine Morse brought a large post-card album which she had filled with views of New York City.
"I know you will be homesick before you're out of sight of land," she said; "but if you're not you ought to be, and I hope these pictures will make you so. When you look at this highly colored representation of Grant's tomb and realise that it is but a few miles from your own long- lost hearthstone, I'm sure you will feel qualms of patriotism--or something."
"I think very likely," said Patty, laughing. "But, Clementine, how many trunks do you suppose I shall need to hold my farewell gifts? This album will take up considerable space."
"I know it," said Clementine, "but you needn't put it in your trunk. You can carry it on board in your hand, and then when you go ashore you can carry it in your hand. I don't believe they will charge you duty on it, especially as it will probably be nearly worn out by that time."
"I'm sure it will," said Patty, "not only from my own constant use of it, but I know everybody on board will want to borrow it and enjoy these works of art."
"Yes," agreed Clementine; "and then, Patty, when you're in Paris you can throw away all these New York cards and fill it up with Paris views and bring it home and give it back to me."
"I certainly will, Clem; that's a first-rate idea."
Mary Sargent brought a French phrase book. It was entitled "French Before Breakfast," and as Mary explained that the French people never had breakfast until noon, Patty would have ample time to study it.
Patty accepted the little book with many thanks and promised Mary she would never eat breakfast, at noon or any other hour, until she had thoroughly mastered at least one of the phrases.
Chapter IV.
An Aquatic Party
Of course all were agreed that Patty must have a farewell party of some sort; and as Nan dearly loved elaborate affairs, she had decided that it should be an Aquatic Party.
Patty frankly confessed her ignorance as to what an Aquatic Party might be, whereupon Nan informed her that she had only to wait until the occasion itself to find out.
So busy was Patty herself that she took no hand in the preparations for the party, and indeed Nan required no help. That capable and energetic young matron secured the services of some professional decorators and able-bodied workmen, but the direction and superintendence was entirely in her own hands.
Patty was consulted only in regard to her own costume for the occasion.
"You see," said Nan, coming into Patty's room one morning, "I don't know whether you would rather say good-bye to your friends in the guise of a kelpie or a pixy or a jelly-fish."
"Cut out the jelly-fish," said Patty, laughing, "for they're horrid, floppy old things, I'm sure. As to the others, what's the difference between a kelpie and a pixy?"
"Oh, a great deal of difference," declared Nan, wagging her head wisely; "a kelpie is an imaginary water sprite, you know, and a pixy is a--a-- why, a sort of make-believe fairy who lives in the water."
"Well, I'm glad that you see a difference in your two definitions. For my part I don't see anything to hinder my being a kelpie and a pixy both, even if I'm not twins."
"Well, they're not so very different, you know. One is a kelpie, and one is a pixy; that's about all the difference."
Patty laughed. "Well, if it will help you out any to have me make a choice," she said, "I'll choose to be a kelpie. What's the latest thing in kelpie costumes?"
"Oh, it will be lovely, Patty! I'll have it made of pale green silk, with a frosted, silvery, shimmering effect, you know, and draped with trailing green seaweed and water grasses."
"Lovely!" agreed Patty. "And what would the pixy costume have been, if I had chosen that?"
"Just the same," confessed Nan, laughing; "but it's easier to have something definite to work at. You can wear my corals, Patty, and, with your hair down, you'll be a perfect kelpie."
Patty smiled at her young stepmother's enthusiasm, and Nan ran away to begin preparations for the kelpie costume.
The night of the party the whole Fairfield house was so transformed that it must scarcely have recognised itself.
The large front drawing-room represented the arctic regions in the vicinity of the North Pole. Frames had been erected which, when covered with sheets, simulated peaks of snowy mountains and snow-covered icebergs. Here and there signs, apparently left by explorers, told the latitude and longitude, and a flag marked the explorations Farthest North. Over these snow peaks scrambled white polar bears in most realistic fashion, and in one corner an Esquimau hut was built.
The ceiling represented a clear blue sky, and the floor the blue water of the open polar sea.
By a clever arrangement of electric lights through colored shades a fair representation of the Aurora Borealis was made to appear at intervals.
The library, which was back of the drawing-room, had been transformed into an aquarium. All round the walls, waves of blue-green gauze simulated water, in which papier-mache fish were gliding and swimming. The illusion was heightened by other fishes, which, being suspended from the ceiling by invisible threads, seemed to be swimming through the air.
Altogether the effect, if not entirely realistic, was picturesque and amusing, and coral reefs and rocky cliffs covered with seaweed gave aquatic impressions, even if not entirely logical.
But Nan's pride was what she chose to call the Upper Deck. This was a room on the second floor, a large front room, which had been made to represent the upper deck of a handsome yacht. Sail-cloth draped and held up by poles formed the roof and sides, and a realistic railing surrounded it. A dozen or more steamer chairs stood in line, strewn with rugs, pillows and paper-backed novels. Coils of rope, lanterns, life- preservers, and other paraphernalia added to the realism of the scene, and at one side a carefully constructed window opened into the steward's cabin. The steward himself, white-duck-suited and white-capped, was prepared to serve light refreshments exactly after the fashion of a correct yachting party.
When the guests began to arrive and were dressed in various costumes, each representing some type or phase of water pleasures, the scene took on a gay and festive air.
Patty's kelpie costume was a great success, and the girl never looked prettier than as she stood receiving her guests in the pretty green silk gown, trailing with seaweed and shimmering with silver dust. Her curly golden hair was wreathed with soft green water-grasses, and her rosy cheeks and dancing eyes made her look like a mischievous water sprite.
Nan's own costume was that of a fish-wife, and though very different from Patty's, it had all the picturesqueness of the quaint costume of the Breton fisher-folk. A basket slung over her shoulder held realistic- looking fishes, and Nan looked quite as if she might have stepped out of the frame of a picture in the French Academy.
Mr. Fairfield, not without some difficulty, had been induced to represent Neptune. False flowing white hair and beard, a shining crown and trident, and a voluminous sea-green robe made him a gorgeous sight.
The three stood near the North Pole to receive their guests, and formality was almost lost sight of in the hilarity caused by the procession of picturesque costumes.
There were pirates of fierce and bloodthirsty mien; there were jolly Jack Tars and natty ship officers; there were water babies, mermaids, fishermen, and many dainty yachting costumes. Then there were queer and grotesque figures, such as a frog, a lobster, and a huge crab.
Altogether the motley procession presented a most interesting appearance, and Patty was glad when the guests had all arrived and she could leave her post and mingle with the crowd.
It was not long before a group of