on that blue checked silk of yours, Patty; it's the sweetest thing, and just right for dinner, and I'll wear my light green one."
With slight assistance from Lisette, the French maid, they were soon ready. Patty envied Lisette her fluency in the French tongue, for though all the officers on board and most of the passengers spoke English, Patty wished she could talk French more readily than she did. She found it good practice to talk to Lisette in her own language, as the mistakes she made did not embarrass her. Lisette, of course, was a great admirer of pretty Patty, and was only too glad to be of assistance to her linguistically or any other way.
Another bugle-call announced dinner, and, joining Mr. and Mrs. Farrington, the girls went down to the dining saloon. Their seats were at the captain's table, and Patty thought she had never seen such a profusion of beautiful flowers as graced the board. The stewards had placed the flowers of all the passengers upon the tables, and, with the lights and ornate decorations of the Louis XVI. saloon, it was like fairyland. The walls and ceiling were elaborately decorated in dainty French fashion, and the table service was exceedingly attractive. Patty was much amused at the revolving chair which she had to learn how to get into, but after being twirled to her place she concluded it was a wise provision for a dining-room of such uncertain level.
Mrs. Farrington sat at the captain's right hand, and next to her was her husband, then Elise, and then Patty. Patty at once began to wonder who would occupy the chair next beyond herself, and was exceedingly interested when the steward turned it around to accommodate a lady who was approaching.
The newcomer was without doubt a Frenchwoman, somewhat elderly, but very vigorous and active. She had masses of snow-white hair, and large, alert, black eyes that seemed to dart quickly from one point of interest to another. She was a little lady, but her gait and manner were marked by an air not only of aristocracy, but as of one accustomed to exert absolute authority. Nor was she apparently of a mild and amiable disposition. She spoke sharply to the steward, although he was doing his best to serve her.
"And is it that you shall be all night in arranging my chair?" she exclaimed. Then, as she was finally seated, she continued her grumbling. "And is it not enough that I must be delayed, but still I have received no MENU? One shall see if this is to be permitted!"
The steward did not seem unduly alarmed at the little old lady's angry speech, but hastened to bring her the daintily printed bill of fare.
Raising her jewelled lorgnon, the French lady scanned the MENU, and having made a choice of soup, she laid the card down, and turning toward Patty surveyed her leisurely through her glasses.
Her manner as she scrutinised Patty was by no means rude or impertinent. It had rather the effect of an honest curiosity and a polite interest.
"There is no denying, my dear," she said at last, "that you are of a beauty. And of a sweetness. An American of Americans. New York--is it not so?"
There was an indefinable charm about the old lady's manner that won Patty's heart at once, and though in any case she would have been polite, she answered with cordiality:
"Yes, madame, I live in New York, although I was born in the South and lived there for many years."
"Ah, then, it is explained. It is your Southern States that make the charm, the aplomb, without the--what you call--the--the freshness. Is it not so? But I do not mean the freshness of the cheek; and yet, in the argot do you not say freshness is cheek? Ah, I am bewildered; I am mixup with your strange words; but I will learn them! They shall not conquer me! And you will help me; is it not so?"
"I will help you with pleasure, madame," replied Patty, dimpling with fun as she heard the old lady's unsuccessful attempts in American slang. "My name is Patty Fairfield; and though I seldom use the slang of my country, I'm more or less familiar with its terms, and can enlighten you concerning them, at least to a degree. To me your language is difficult; but perhaps we may by conversation help each other."
"Patty Fairfield; a pleasant name for a pleasant child. But I'm not madame; pray call me ma'amselle. I am Ma'amselle Labesse."
"You are a Frenchwoman, of course?" inquired Patty.
"A Frenchwoman, yes; but of an admiration for your strange American country. I go home now, but I shall return again. Your country is of an interest."
As Patty looked around at the others at their table, she felt that she had been fortunate in sitting next to the old ma'amselle. For though she could not judge entirely by appearances, no one else at the table seemed to be so quaintly interesting as the old French lady.
Patty soon discovered that even a "few miles of dancing upon the blue water" had decidedly sharpened her appetite, and she did full justice to the delicate viands and delicious French cookery placed before her. She and Elise chatted happily, and after introducing her companions on either side to each other the conversation became general.
Under the influence of the comradeship always felt on a French liner, the people across the table became sociably inclined, and acquaintances were made rapidly.
After dinner our party went out on deck, and though warm wraps were necessary, the crisp, clear air was delightful, and the starry sky and tumbling black water fascinated Patty beyond all words. She leaned against the rail, watching the waves as they dashed and plashed below, breaking into white foam as the steamer ploughed through them. Patty was very susceptible to new impressions, and the great expanse of black water beneath the dome of the star-studded black sky filled her with an awe and reverence which she had never known before.
Elise stood quietly beside her, with her hand through Patty's arm, and together the girls silently enjoyed the sombre beauty of the scene.
"Are you afraid, Patty?" asked Elise.
Patty laughed a little, and then she said: "I don't know as I can make you understand it, Elise, for it sounds so ridiculous when it's put into words. But it's this way with me: In my imagination, when I think of this little cockleshell of a boat tossing on this great, deep, black ocean, which may engulf it at any moment, I have a certain feeling of fear, which seems to belong to the situation. But really, my common sense tells me that these staunch steamships are constructed for the very purpose of carrying people safely across the sea, and that there is almost no danger at all of their doing otherwise. So you see it only depends on whether I'm in a mood of poetical imagination or practical common sense as to whether I'm afraid or not."
"Patty," said Elise, with a little sigh, "you are certainly clever. Now I never could have reasoned the thing out like that, and yet I see just what you mean."
"Throw bouquets at yourself, then, Elise," said Patty, laughing, "for you're a great deal more clever to see what I mean than I am to say it!"
After a brisk walk up and down the deck for a time the girls tucked themselves snugly into their deck chairs by the side of the elder Farringtons.
"How do you like it so far, Patty?" asked Mr. Farrington.
"It's simply perfect," declared Patty enthusiastically. "It's awfully different from what I thought it would be, and ever so much nicer. I thought it would be impossible to walk across the deck without tumbling all over and catching hold of everything. But we can walk around just as if in a house, and everything is comfortable, even luxurious, and it's all so clean."
Mrs. Farrington laughed at this. "Of course it's clean, child," she said; "it's only on land that we are under the tyranny of dust and dirt. But as for tumbling around the deck, that may come later. Don't imagine the sea is never rougher than it is to-night."
"I hope it will be rougher," said Patty. "I don't want a fearful storm, but I would like a little pitching and tossing."
"You'll probably get it," said Mr. Farrington. "And now, my cherished ones, let us take a look in at the library and drawing-room, and then let us seek our staterooms."
So the parry adjourned to the brilliantly lighted saloon, where many of the passengers had congregated to spend the after-dinner hour. It was a beautiful apartment, even more gorgeous and elaborate than the dining- room, and furnished with inviting-looking