Patty was at her wits’ end. She had not expected to be a professional entertainer, and she didn’t know what to suggest next.
She felt sure Mrs. Van Reypen wouldn’t care to listen to any more reading just then. She hesitated to propose music, as it had not been very successful the night before. On a sudden impulse, she said:
“Do you like to see dancing? I can do some pretty fancy dances.”
It seemed an absurd thing to say, but Patty had ransacked her brain to think what professional entertainers did, and that was all she could think of, except recitations, and those she hated herself.
“Yes, I do!” cried Mrs. Van Reypen, so emphatically that Patty jumped. “I love to see dancing! If you can do it, which I doubt, I wish you would dance for me. And this evening we’ll go to see that new dancer that the town is wild over. If you really can dance, you’ll appreciate it as I do. To me dancing is a fine art, and should be considered so—but it rarely is. Do you require music?”
“Of course, I prefer it, but I can dance without.”
“We’ll try it without, first; then, if I wish to, I’ll ask Delia, my parlour-maid, to play for you. She plays fairly well. Or, if it suits me, I may play myself.”
Patty made no response to these suggestions, but followed Mrs. Van Reypen to the great drawing-room, at one end of which was a grand piano.
“Try it without music, first,” was the order, and Patty walked to the other end of the long room, while Mrs. Van Reypen seated herself on a sofa. Serenely conscious of her proficiency in the art, Patty felt no embarrassment, and, swaying gently, as if listening to rhythm, she began a pretty little fancy dance that she had learned some years ago.
She danced beautifully, and she loved to dance, so she made a most effective picture, as she pirouetted back and forth, or from side to side of the long room.
“Beautiful!” said Mrs. Van Reypen, as Patty paused in front of her and bowed. “You are a charming dancer. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed anything so much. Are you tired? Will you dance again?”
“I’m not at all tired,” said Patty. “I like to dance, and I’m very glad it pleases you.”
“Can you do a minuet?” asked the old lady, after Patty had finished another dance, a gay little Spanish fandango.
“Yes; but I like music for that.”
“Good! I will play myself.” With great dignity, Mrs. Van Reypen rose and walked to the piano.
Patty adjusted the music-stool for her, and she ran her delicate old fingers lightly over the keys.
“I’m sadly out of practice,” she said, “but I can play a tinkling minuet and you may dance to it.”
She began a melodious little air, and Patty, after listening a moment, nodded her head, and ran to take her place.
Mrs. Van Reypen was so seated at the piano that she could watch Patty’s dance, and in a moment the two were in harmony, and Patty was gliding and bowing in a charming minuet, while Mrs. Van Reypen played in perfect sympathy.
The dance was nearly over when Patty discovered the smiling face of Mr. Philip Van Reypen in the doorway.
His aunt could not see him, and Patty saw only his reflection in the mirror. He gave her a pleading glance, and put his finger on his lip, entreating her silence.
So she went on, without seeming to see him. But she wondered what his aunt would say after the dance was over.
Indeed, the funny side of the situation struck her so forcibly that she unconsciously smiled broadly at her own thoughts.
“That’s right,” said Mrs. Van Reypen, as the dancing and music both came to an end; “I am glad to see you smile as you dance. I have seen some dancers who look positively agonised as they do difficult steps.”
Patty smiled again, remembering that she had had a reason to smile as she danced, and she wondered why Philip didn’t appear.
But he didn’t, and, except that she had seen him so clearly in the mirror, and he had asked her, silently but unmistakably, not to divulge the fact of his presence, she would have thought she only imagined him there in the doorway.
“You dance wonderfully well,” went on Mrs. Van Reypen. “You have had very good training. I shall be glad to have you dance for me often. But—and please remember this—never when any one else is here. I wish you to dance for me only. If I have guests, or if my nephew is here, you are not to dance.”
This was almost too much for Patty’s gravity. For she well knew the old lady was foolishly alarmed lest her nephew should fall in love with a humble “companion,” and, knowing that the said nephew had gleefully watched the dance, it was difficult not to show her amusement.
But she only said, “I will remember, Mrs. Van Reypen.” She couldn’t tell of the intruder after his frantic appeal to her for silence, so she determined to ignore the episode.
“Now, you may do as you like until luncheon time,” said Mrs. Van Reypen, “for I shall go to my room and lie down for a rest. My maid will attend me, so I will bid you adieu until one o’clock. Wander round the house if you choose. You will find much to interest you.”
“Right you are!” thought Patty to herself. “I don’t believe I’d have to wander far to find a jolly comrade to interest me!” But she well knew if Mr. Philip Van Reypen was still in the house, and if she should encounter him and chat with him, it would greatly enrage the old lady.
“And,” thought Patty, “since I’ve made good with my dancing it’s a shame to spoil my record by talking to Sir Philip. But he is pleasant.”
Determined to do her duty, she went straight to her own room, though tempted to “wander round the house.”
And sure enough, though she didn’t know it, Mr. Van Reypen was watching her from behind the drawing-room draperies. His face fell as he saw her go up the stairs, and, though he waited some time, she did not return.
“Saucy Puss!” he thought. “But I’ll have a chat with her yet.”
Going to the library he scribbled a note, and sent it by a servant to Miss Fairfield’s room. The note said:
“Do come down and talk to a lonely, neglected waif, if only for a few minutes.
“P. V. R.”
Patty laughed as she read it, but she only said to the maid who brought it:
“Please say to Mr. Van Reypen that there is no answer.”
The maid departed, but, in less than ten minutes, returned with another note:
“You’re afraid of Aunty Van! Come on. I will protect you. Just for a few moments’ chat on the stairs.
“P. V. R.”
Again Patty sent the message, “There is no answer.”
Soon came a third note:
“I think you are horrid! And you don’t dance prettily at all!”
“Oho!” thought Patty. “Getting saucy, is he?”
She made no response whatever to the maid this time, but she was not greatly surprised when another note came:
“If you don’t come down, I’m going out to drown myself. P.”
Patty began to be annoyed. The servants must think all this very strange, and yet surely she could not help it.
“Wait a moment, Delia,” she said. “Please say to Mr. Van Reypen that I will see him in the library, at once.”
After a moment she followed the maid downstairs, and went straight to the library, where the young man awaited her. His face lighted up