enjoyment unmarred by self-consciousness.
Gradually she was induced to take some part in their talk, and once she told an anecdote of her own experience without seeming aware of her unusual surroundings.
“She’ll do,” thought Patty. “It isn’t ignorance or inexperience that’s the greatest trouble; it’s just ingrowing shyness, and she’s got to get over it; I’ll see that she does, too!”
Mr. Hepworth read Patty’s unspoken thoughts in her eyes and nodded approval.
Patty nodded back with a dimpling smile, and Christine, seeing it, vowed afresh to gain the ability to do that sort of thing herself.
For all Southern girls have a touch of the coquette in their natures, but poor Christine’s was nearly choked out by the weeds of timidity and self-consciousness.
After dinner it was easier. They went to the cosy library, and the atmosphere seemed more informal.
Mr. Hepworth brought up the subject of Miss Farley’s work, and she was persuaded to fetch some sketches to show them.
Though not able to appreciate the fine points of promise as Mr. Hepworth did, they were all greatly pleased with them, and Mr. Fairfield declared them wonderful.
In her own field Christine was fearless and quite sure of herself.
She talked intelligently about pictures, and many pleasant plans were made for taking her to see several collections then on exhibition, as well as to the Metropolitan and other art galleries.
Nan and Patty exchanged pleased glances as Christine talked eagerly, and with shining eyes and pink cheeks, about her own aims and ambitions.
Mr. Hepworth was responsive, and advised her on some minor points, but the great question of her art education in New York was not touched upon that first evening.
Christine had grown almost gay in her chatter, when Kenneth was announced. Like a sensitive plant at a human touch, she lost all her poise, her face turned white, and her lips quivered as she braced herself for the ordeal of meeting a stranger.
“Oh!” thought Patty, almost disgusted at this foolishness, “she is the limit!”
But Nan appreciated more truly the real state of the case, and knew that Christine had borne just about all she could, and that owing to physical fatigue and mental strain her nerves were just about ready to give way.
“How do you do, Kenneth?” said Nan, airily. “Too bad you didn’t come earlier. I am just taking our little guest away from this admiring crowd, who are tiring her all out with their admiration. She may just say ‘howdy’ to you, and then I’m going to carry her off. Miss Farley, this is our Kenneth—Mr. Harper.”
Stimulated by Nan’s support and by the sudden chance for release, Christine managed to acknowledge the introduction prettily enough, and then gladly let Nan take her upstairs to bed.
“I’m sorry I’m so horrid,” said the girl, as Nan helped her take off her gown.
“Nonsense!” replied Nan, cheerily. “You weren’t horrid a bit. You looked lovely and behaved like a little lady. Your nerves are overwrought, and I don’t wonder. Just tumble into bed, dearie, and forget everything in all the world, except that you’re among warm friends.”
Nan had most comforting ways, and soon Christine forgot her troubles in a happy sleep.
Meantime, Kenneth was admiring her sketches. “Whew!” he said, “she’s a genius all right. But such a shy little mouse never can succeed as an artist.”
“Yes, she will!” declared Patty. “Her shyness will wear off in New York. I’m going to eradicate it from her make-up somehow, and then we’re going to make a famous artist of her.”
“You can be a great help to her, Patty,” said Mr. Hepworth. “If any one makes Christine think she can do things, she can do them.”
“Yes, I see that already,” agreed Patty, “and I’m going to be the one to make her think she can do them.”
“Huh!” teased Kenneth. “You think you can make anybody think they think anything!”
“Sure!” said Patty, complacently.
“Well, don’t teach Miss Farley to talk slang,” said Mr. Fairfield, laughing, “for it would be too incongruous with that Madonna face of hers.”
“She is like a Madonna, isn’t she?” said Patty, thoughtfully. “I’ve been trying to think what her face reminded me of.”
“Yes, she is,” said Mr. Hepworth, “and as I feel pretty sure you can’t teach her to use slang, why don’t you take this occasion to discontinue the use of it yourself?”
“Can’t do it,” returned Patty. “There are times in my mad career when nothing expresses what I want to say so well as a mild bit of slang. I never say anything very dreadful.”
“Of course you don’t,” declared Kenneth, who loved to take Patty’s part against Mr. Hepworth. “Why, you wouldn’t be ‘Our Patty’ if you used only dictionary English. All the slang Miss Farley gets from you will do her good rather than harm. She needs it in her make-up.”
“I agree with the spirit of that, if not the letter,” said Mr. Hepworth, kindly; and Patty said:
“Yes, she needs to be jollied; and, you take it from me, she’s going to get jollied!”
Chapter XX.
A Satisfactory Conclusion
As Nan had surmised, Christine was worn out by her day of fatigue and excitement, and the next morning found her possessed of better mental poise and a more placid manner.
And as more days went by the girl improved greatly in demeanour and bearing, and lost, to a great degree, her look of startled fear and painful self-consciousness. Of course this was not accomplished completely, or all at once, but helped by the kind gentleness of Nan and affectionate chaffing of Patty, Christine grew more accustomed to the pleasant social atmosphere into which she had been so suddenly thrown.
They visited picture galleries and went to the shops, and went driving and motoring, and though Christine could not be persuaded to go to afternoon teas, or to formal luncheons, yet she enjoyed the pleasures she had and grew every day more at her ease in society.
Her own determination helped her greatly. She purposed to yet become as unaffected and un-self-conscious as Patty, and, though she knew she could never acquire Patty’s inborn gaiety of spirit, she resolved to come as near to it as she could with her naturally quiet disposition.
The two girls became fast friends, and, after a few days, Patty ventured to broach the subject of Christine’s career.
To her surprise, Christine was quite ready to talk about it, and asked Patty’s advice as to ways and means.
“I’ve already learned,” she said, “that I have some talent and that I need the instruction and experience that I can get here and cannot get at home. When I once make up my mind to a thing I spare no effort to achieve it, and now I’m determined to get an art education by some manner or means!”
“Hooray for you!” cried Patty, for Christine’s cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled with the force of her speech. “That’s the way to talk! Christine, you do me proud! Now, go on; what have you in mind? Tell your Aunt Patty all about it.”
Christine smiled at Patty’s funny little ways, but she went on bravely:
“I want to stay in New York for a year, at least. I’m afraid of it—desperately so. The very sound of the traffic scares me out of my wits. But I’m going to conquer that, and