ring for her."
This they readily promised to do, and then they wound up the evening by a vigorous rendition of the "Marseillaise," followed by "The Star Spangled Banner" and "God Save the King."
It was all a delightful experience for Patty, who dearly loved lights and music and flowers and people and gay goings on, and she felt that she was indeed a fortunate girl to have all these pleasures come to her.
Chapter VIII.
Days at Sea
The time on shipboard passed all too quickly.
Each day was crammed full of various amusements and occupations, and Patty and Elise enjoyed it all thoroughly.
Although the majority of passengers were French, yet they nearly all spoke English, and there were a number of Americans and English people, who proved to be pleasant and companionable.
The young people from Chicago seemed to wear well, and as she grew to know them better Patty liked them very much. The Van Ness girls, though breezy in their manner, were warm-hearted and good-natured, and their boy cousins were always ready for anything, and proved themselves capable of good comradeship.
The English girl, Florrie Nash, Patty could not quite understand. Florrie seemed to be willing to be friends, but there was a coldness and reserve about her nature that Patty could not seem to penetrate.
As she expressed it to Elise, "Florrie never seems herself quite certain whether she likes us or we like her."
"Oh, it's only her way," said Elise; "she doesn't know how to chum, that's all."
But Patty was not satisfied with this, and determined to investigate the matter.
"Come for a walk," she said, tucking her arm through Florrie's one morning. "Let's walk around the deck fifty times all by ourselves. Don't you want to?"
"Yes, if you like;" and Florrie walked along by Patty's side, apparently willing enough, but without enthusiasm.
"Why do you put it that way?" asked Patty, smiling; "don't you like to go yourself?"
"Yes, of course I do; but I always say that when people ask me to do anything. It's habit, I suppose. All English people say it."
"I suppose it is habit," said Patty; "but it seems to me you'd have a whole lot better time if you felt more interest in things, or rather, if you expressed more interest. Now look at the Van Ness girls; they're just bubbling over with enthusiasm."
"The Van Ness girls are savages," remarked Florrie, with an air of decision.
"Indeed they're not!" cried Patty, who was always ready to stand up for her friends. "The trouble with you, Florrie, is that you're narrow- minded; you think that unless people have your ways and your manners they are no good at all."
"Not quite that," returned Florrie, laughing. "Of course, we English have our prejudices, and other people call us narrow; but I think we shall always be so."
"I suppose you will," said Patty; "but anyway you would have more fun if you enjoyed yourself more."
"It's good of you, Patty, to care whether I enjoy myself or not."
Florrie's tone was so sincere and humble as she said this that Patty began to realise there was a good deal of character under Florrie's indifferent manner.
"Of course I care. I have grown to like you, Florrie, in these few days, and I want to be good friends with you, if you'll let me."
"If you like," said Florrie again, and Patty perceived that the phrase was merely a habit and did not mean the indifference it expressed.
"And I want you to visit me," went on Florrie. "I'm travelling now to Paris with my aunt, who took me to the States for a trip. From Paris I shall soon go back to my country home in England, and I wish you would visit me there--you and Elise both. Oh, Patty, you have no idea how beautiful England is in the springtime. The may blooms thickly along the lanes, till they're masses of pink fragrance; and the sky is the most wonderful blue, and the birds sing, and it is like nothing else in all the world."
The tears came into Florrie's eyes as she spoke, and Patty was amazed that this cold-blooded girl should be so moved at the mere thought of the spring landscape.
"I should dearly love to visit you, Florrie, but I can't promise, of course, for I'm with the Farringtons, and must do as they say."
"Yes, of course; but I do hope you can come. You would love our country place, Patty; it is so large, and so old, and so beautiful."
Florrie said this with no effect of boasting, but merely with a sincere appreciation of her beautiful home. Then as she went on to tell of the animals and pets there, and of the park and woods of the estate, Patty found that the girl could indeed be enthusiastic when she chose.
This made Patty like her all the better, for it proved she had enthusiasm enough when a subject appealed to her.
But when they were joined by the crowd of gay young people begging them to come and play games, Florrie seemed to shut up into herself again, and assumed once more her air of cold indifference.
But if Florrie was lacking in enthusiasm, it was not so with another of Patty's friends.
Ma'amselle Labesse, who had recovered from her indisposition, had taken a violent fancy to Patty and would have liked to monopolise her completely.
Patty was kind to the old lady and did much to entertain her, but she was not willing to give up all her time to her. The old ma'amselle greatly delighted to carry Patty off to her stateroom, there to talk to her or listen to her read aloud. Except for her maid, ma'amselle was alone, and Patty felt sorry for her and was glad to cheer her up. Not that she needed cheering exactly, for she was of a merry and volatile disposition, except when she gave way to exhibitions of temper, which were not infrequent.
One morning she called Patty to her room, and surprised the girl by giving her a present of a handsome and valuable old necklace. It was of curiously wrought gold, and though Patty admired it extremely, she hesitated about accepting such a gift from a comparative stranger."
"But yes," said ma'amselle, "it is for you. I wish to give it to you. I have taken such a fancy to you, you could scarce believe. And I adore to decorate you thus." She clasped the necklace about Patty's throat, with an air that plainly said she would be much offended if the gift were refused. So Patty decided to keep it, at least until she could get an opportunity to ask Mrs. Farrington's advice on the subject.
When she did ask her, Mrs. Farrington told her to keep it by all means. She said she had no doubt the old ma'amselle enjoyed making the gift far more than Patty was pleased to receive it, so Patty kept the trinket, which was really a very fine specimen of the goldsmith's art.
"And, my dear," the old lady went on, the day that she gave Patty the necklace, "you must and shall come to visit me in my chateau. My home is the most beautifull--an old chateau at St. Germain, not far from Paris, and you can come, but often, and stay with me for the long time."
Patty thanked her, but would not promise, as she had made up her mind to accept no invitations that could not include the Farringtons.
But Ma'amselle Labesse did include the Farringtons, and invited the whole party to visit her in the winter.
Mrs. Farrington gave no definite answer, but said she would see about it, and perhaps they would run out for the week-end.
For the first five or six days of their journey the weather was perfect and the ocean calm and level. But one morning they awoke to find it raining, and later the rain developed into a real storm. The wind blew furiously and the boat pitched about in a manner really alarming. The old ma'amselle took to her stateroom, and Mrs. Farrington also was unable to leave hers. But the girls were pleased rather than otherwise. Patty