here; and I’m determined to be happy whatever happens. And, anyway, it will be over soon. A week isn’t long.”
Putting on a trim morning dress, of soft old rose cashmere, with a fine embroidered white yoke, she went sedately down to the breakfast room. She had been told to come to breakfast at nine o’clock, and the clock struck the hour just as she crossed the threshold.
Instead of her employer, she was astounded to see Philip Van Reypen calmly seated at the table.
“Jolly to see you again!” he cried, as he jumped up to greet her. “Just thought I’d run in for a bite of breakfast, and to inquire how Aunty Van’s cold is.”
“I didn’t know she had a cold,” said Patty, primly, trying to act as she thought a companion ought to act.
“Neither did I,” said the irrepressible Philip. “But I didn’t know but she might have caught one in the night. A germ flying in at the window, or something.”
Mindful of Mrs. Van Reypen’s admonitions, Patty tried not to appear interested in the young man’s remarks, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that he was interested in her.
She responded to his gay banter in monosyllables, and kept her dancing eyes veiled by their own long-fringed lids, but this only served to pique Philip’s curiosity.
“I’ve a notion to spend the day here, with Aunty Van,” he said, and then Patty glanced up at him in positive alarm.
“Don’t!” she cried, and her face betokened a genuine distress.
“Why not?” said the surprised young man; “have you learned to dislike me so cordially already?”
Amiable Patty couldn’t stand for this misinterpretation of her attitude, and her involuntary, smiling glance was a sufficient disclaimer.
But she was saved the necessity of a verbal reply, for just at that moment Mrs. Van Reypen came into the room.
Chapter XV.
Persistent Philip
“Why, Philip!” Mrs. Van Reypen exclaimed; “you are indeed growing attentive to your aged aunt!”
“Middle-aged aunt!” he returned, gallantly; “and belonging to the early middle-ages at that! I told you I should call this morning, and I’d like another egg, please, aunty.”
“You may have all the eggs you want, but I am not at all pleased with your presence here after I expressly forbade it.”
“Oh, it isn’t a crime to call on one’s own aunt, is it?”
“It’s extremely rude. I have a busy day before me, and I don’t want a bothersome nephew around.”
Mrs. Van Reypen was exceedingly fond of Philip, and loved to have him at her house, but it was easy to be seen, now, that she considered him far too much interested in pretty Patty.
And partly because he was interested, and partly to tease his long-suffering aunt, the young man declared his intention of spending the day with them.
“I can’t have you, Philip,” said Mrs. Van Reypen, decidedly. “I want you to go away immediately after breakfast.”
“Just my luck!” grumbled her nephew. “I never can do anything I want to. Well, I’ll go downtown, but I’ll be back here to luncheon.”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” said Mrs. Van Reypen, shortly; “you’ll do nothing of the sort.”
The rest of the meal was not very enjoyable. Mrs. Van Reypen was clearly displeased at her nephew’s presence; Patty did not think it wise to take any active part in the conversation; and, though Philip was in gay spirits, it was not easy to be merry alone.
Patty couldn’t help smiling at his audacious speeches, but she kept her eyes down on her plate, and endeavoured to ignore the young man’s presence, for she knew this was what Mrs. Reypen wished her to do.
“Now you may go,” said the hostess, as Philip finished his egg. “I’d like to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace.”
“Oh, I’m peaceful!” declared Philip, crossing his hands on his breast and rolling up his eyes with an angelic expression.
“Good-by, Philip,” said his aunt, so icily that the young man rose from the table and stalked out of the room.
“Now,” said Mrs. Van Reypen, “we are rid of him.”
But in a few moments the smiling face again appeared at the door.
“I forgot to say good-by to Miss Fairfield,” he announced, cheerfully. “Mayn’t I do that, aunty?”
Mrs. Van Reypen gave an annoyed “Humph!” and Patty, taking her cue, bowed very coldly, and said “Good-morning, Mr. Van Reypen” in an utterly impersonal tone.
Philip chuckled, and went away, slamming the street door behind him, as a final annoyance to his aunt.
“You mustn’t think him a rude boy, Miss Fairfield,” she said. “But he delights to tease me, and unless I am positively cross to him he never lets up. But he is really devoted to me, and, I assure you, he scarcely noted your presence at all.”
“Of course not,” said Patty, with great difficulty restraining a burst of laughter. “No one could dream of Mr. Philip Van Reypen observing a companion.” Patty did not mean this for sarcasm; she desired only to set Mrs. Van Reypen’s mind at rest, and then the subject of Philip was dropped.
Soon after breakfast Mrs. Van Reypen conducted Patty to a pleasant morning room, and asked her to read the newspaper aloud.
“And do try to read slower,” she added. “I hate rapid gabbling.”
Patty had resolved not to take offence at the brusque remarks, which she knew would be hurled at her, so, somewhat meekly, she took up the paper and began.
It was a trying task. If she read an account of anything unpleasant she was peremptorily stopped; if the news was dry or prosy, that was also cut off short.
“Read me the fashion notes,” said Mrs. Van Reypen, at last.
So Patty read a whole page about the latest modes, and her hearer was greatly interested.
She then told Patty of some new gowns she was having made, and seemed pleased at Patty’s intelligent comments on them.
“Why, you have good taste!” she exclaimed, as if making a surprising discovery. “I will take you with me this afternoon when I go to Madame Leval’s to try on my gowns.”
“Very well,” said Patty. “And now, Mrs. Van Reypen, I’m sure there’s nothing more of interest in the paper; what shall I do next?”
“Heavens! Miss Fairfield, don’t ask such a question as that! You are here to entertain me. I am not to provide amusement for you! Why do you suppose I have you here, if not to make my time pass pleasantly?”
Patty was bewildered at this outburst. Though she knew her duties would be light, she supposed they would be clearly defined, and not left to her own invention.
But she was anxious to please, and she said, pleasantly:
“I think that’s really what I meant, but I didn’t express myself very well. And, you see, I don’t yet quite know your tastes. Do you like fancy work? I know a lovely new crochet stitch I could show you.”
“No; I hate crocheting. The wool gets all snarled up, and the pattern gets wrong every few stitches.”
“Then we’ll dismiss that. Do you like to play cards? I know cribbage, and