easy-chairs, sofas, and divans of puffy upholstery. Gilt-framed tables were scattered about for the benefit of the card-players, and attractively appointed writing-desks made Patty suddenly realise that she wanted to write letters home at once. But remembering that they could not possibly be mailed for ten days to come, she decided to defer them at least until the morrow.
Well-filled bookcases attracted the girls' attention, and notwithstanding the large amount of reading matter they had of their own, they were glad to see some well-known favourites behind the glass doors.
Patty was surprised when Mr. Farrington proposed that they should all go to the dining-room for a bit of supper before retiring. It seemed to her but a short time since they had dined; and yet she realised the suggestion was not entirely unwelcome.
"Is it imperative that we shall eat more meals on sea than on land?" she inquired, as they took their places at the table.
"Not imperative, perhaps," the captain answered her, smiling, "but unless you seem to appreciate my cook's efforts to please you I shall have to pitch him overboard; and it is not easy to find another chef in mid-ocean."
"Then," said Patty gaily, "I shall certainly do all I can to save the poor man from a dreadful fate. And it does not seem to me that I shall have any difficulty in keeping my part of the bargain." As Patty spoke she was nibbling away with great satisfaction at a caviare sandwich and bestowing a pleased glance on a glass of orange sherbet which the steward had just brought to her.
The captain was a large and important-looking personage, with the black moustache and imperiale of the true Frenchman. His manner was expansive and very cordial; and as he had known the Farringtons for many years he was quite ready to welcome Patty for their sake as well as her own. Indeed, he had taken an immediate liking to the pretty American girl, and as French captains are prone to make favourites among their passengers, Patty was immediately assigned in his chivalrous heart to such a position.
He bade her a pleasant good-night as she left the dining-room, and was delighted with her naive expressions of admiration and appreciation of his beautiful ship.
When the girls reached their stateroom they suddenly realised that they were quite tired out after the excitements of the day, and were very glad to let Lisette brush their hair and assist them in preparing for bed. As Patty nestled snugly between the coarse linen sheets she felt a drowsy enjoyment of the gentle rolling motion of the steamer, and almost immediately fell into a sound, dreamless sleep.
Chapter VII.
Western Friends
The girls slept restfully all night, and were awakened in the morning by the entrance of Lisette, who was followed by the pleasant-faced and voluble French stewardess. The day was bright and sunshiny, and half a dozen times while she was dressing Patty stuck her head out of the porthole to gaze at the sparkling blue water. On these occasions Elise grasped her by the feet lest she should fall out. But as Patty's substantial frame could not possibly have squeezed through the porthole, the precaution was unnecessary.
After breakfast the girls prepared for a delightful morning on deck. The breeze had freshened considerably, so Patty put on a long, warm ulster that enveloped her from throat to feet. A long blue veil tied her trim little hat in place, and when fully equipped she looked over the piles of literature to make a selection.
"Do you know," she said to Elise, "I don't believe I shall read much; I think I shall just sit and look at the water and dream."
"All right," said her practical friend; "but take a book with you, for if you don't you're sure to want one; while if you do, you probably won't look at it."
"Elise, you're a genius. I'll take the book, and also some of this candy. I'm glad Hilda gave me this bag; it's most convenient."
The bag in question was a large, plain affair of dark green cloth, with a black ribbon drawstring. It proved to be Patty's constant companion, as it was roomy enough to hold gloves, veils, handkerchiefs, as well as pencil and paper, and anything else they might need through the day. It hung conveniently on the back of Patty's deck chair, and became as famous as the bag of the lady in "Swiss Family Robinson."
As Patty had anticipated, she did not do any reading that morning, but neither did she gaze at the ocean and dream. She discovered that life on an ocean steamer is apt to be full of incident and abounds in occupation.
No sooner had she and Elise arranged themselves in their chairs than along came two gay and laughing girls, who stopped to talk to them.
"We're going to introduce ourselves," said one of them. "I am Alicia Van Ness, and this is my little sister Doris. We're from Chicago, and we like the looks of you girls, and we want to be chums. Though, of course, it's up to you, and if you don't like our looks you've only to say so and we'll never trouble you again."
"Speak out!" chimed in the other girl, who was quite as vivacious as her sister. "We're not a bit stupid, and we can take the slightest hint. I can see you don't quite approve of us"--and she looked shrewdly at Patty, who had unconsciously assumed an air of hauteur as she watched the frank-mannered Western girls--"but really and truly we're awfully nice after you get acquainted with us."
Patty was amused, and a little ashamed that a stranger should have read her feelings so accurately, for she had felt slightly repelled at the somewhat forward manners of these would-be friends.
As if to make up for her coolness she said heartily: "I'm sure you are delightful to know, and I'm quite ready to be friends if you will allow it. I'm Patty Fairfield, and this is my chum, Elise Farrington."
"We knew your names," said Alicia Van Ness; "we asked the captain. You see, we thought you two were the nicest girls on board, but if you had thrown us down we were going to tackle the English girl next."
Though this slangy style of talk was not at all to Patty's liking, she saw no reason to reject the offered friendship because of it. The Van Ness sisters might prove to be interesting companions, in spite of their unconventional ways. So two vacant chairs were drawn up, and the four girls sat in a group, and very soon were chatting away like old friends.
"Do you know the English girl?" asked Doris; "she sits at your table."
"No," said Elise; "she's way down at the other end from us. But I like her looks, only she's so very English that I expect she's rather stiff and hard to get acquainted with."
"You can't say that about us, can you?" said Alicia, laughing; "I'm as easy as an old shoe, and Doris as an old slipper. But we hope you'll like us, because we do love to be liked. That English girl's name is Florrie Nash. Isn't that queer? She doesn't look a bit like a Florrie, does she? More like a Susan or a Hannah."
"Or more like a Catharine or Elizabeth, I think," said Patty. "But you never can tell people's names from what they look like."
"No," said Alicia; "now a stranger would say you looked like my name, and I looked like yours."
"That's true enough," said Elise, laughing; "your jolly ways are not at all like your grand-sounding name; and as for Patty here, it's a perfect shame to spoil her beautiful name of Patricia by such a nickname."
Two young men in long plaid ulsters with turned-up collars and plaid yachting caps came into view at the other end of the deck. They were walking with swinging strides in the direction of the group of girls.
"Now I'll show you," said Alicia in a low voice, "how we Chicago girls scrape acquaintance with young men."
As the young men drew nearer Alicia looked at them smilingly and said "Ahem" in a low but distinct voice. The young men looked at her and smiled, whereupon Doris purposely dropped a book she had been holding. The young men sprang to pick it up, Doris took it and thanked them, and then made a further remark as to the beauty of the weather. The young men replied affably, and then Alicia asked them to join their group and sit down for a chat.
"With