flatly refused to see it, saying it made her head ache to try to understand it.
“But it was very clever of Miss Farley to reason it out so soon,” said Philip.
“Yes, wasn’t it?” agreed Patty. “I didn’t know you had a bent for puzzles, Christine.”
“I haven’t. But that doesn’t seem to me like a puzzle. I can’t do arithmetical problems, or guess charades at all. But this seems to me a picture of still life. I can see the insides of the books in my mind, and they are wrong end to,—that is, compared to the way we read them. You see, they really stand in the bookcase with the pages numbered backward.”
“Bravo, Christine; so they do!” said Mr. Hepworth. “Patty, that’s the answer, but, I confess, I was ’way off myself.”
“So say we all of us,” chimed in Roger. “I can only see through it, part of the time, even now.”
“I think it a most clever catch question,” said Philip Van Reypen. “Where did you find it, Miss Fairfield?”
“In a little book of puzzles; I’m trying to guess them all.”
“Let me help you, won’t you? I’m a shark on puzzles. I slipped up on this one, I admit; but I can do the ‘transposed, I am a fish’ kind, just lovely.”
“Ah, but my bookful isn’t that kind. They’re all of a catchy or difficult sort.”
“Well, let me try to help, mayn’t I?” Mr. Van Reypen’s voice was gay and wheedlesome, and Patty responded by saying, “Perhaps; some time. But now I must take Miss Farley in to see Mrs. Van Reypen.”
These two were mutually pleased with each other, as Patty felt sure they would be.
Mrs. Van Reypen assumed her kindest demeanour, for she saw Christine was excessively shy. She talked pleasantly to her, drawing her out concerning her life work and her life plans, and ended by asking the girl to call on her some afternoon, soon.
Then she went away, and Patty drew Christine into a corner to congratulate her.
“It’s fine!” she declared. “If Mrs. Van Reypen takes you up, she’ll do lovely things for you. She’ll have you at her house, and you’ll meet lovely people, and she’ll take you to the opera! Oh, Christine, do be nice to her.”
“Of course I shall. I liked her at once. She isn’t a bit patronising. But, Patty, your friend Elise is. I don’t know why, but she doesn’t like me.”
“Nonsense, Christine, don’t you go around with thinks like that under your pompadour! Elise is all right. She isn’t such a sunny bunny as I am, but she’s a lot wiser and better in many ways.”
“No, she isn’t! She’s selfish and jealous. But I’m going to be nice to her, and, perhaps, I can make her like me, after all.”
“I should say you could! Everybody likes you, and anybody who doesn’t soon will!”
Chapter II.
An Able Helper
Nearly all the guests had left the Fairfield house, after Nan’s pleasant afternoon tea. Philip Van Reypen had escorted his aunt out to her carriage, and she had driven away, while the young man returned for a few moments’ further chat with his hostess.
Though he and Nan had met but a few times, they had become rather chummy, which, however, was not unusual for him, if he liked anybody.
Young Van Reypen was of a gay and social nature, and made friends easily by his sheer good-humour. He admired Mrs. Fairfield very much, but, even more, he admired Patty. Ever since he had met her unexpectedly on his aunt’s staircase, he had thought her the prettiest and sweetest girl he had ever seen. So he was making every endeavour to cultivate her acquaintance, and, being of rather astute observation, he concluded it wise to make friends with the whole Fairfield family.
So the big, handsome chap went back to the drawing-room, and dropped on a sofa beside Nan.
“It’s awfully cold out,” he observed, plaintively.
“Is it?” returned his hostess, innocently.
“Yes; I hate to go out in the cold.”
“But you have to go, sooner or later.”
“Yes; but it may be warmer later.”
“On the contrary, it will probably grow colder.”
“Oh! do you think so? But, then again, it may not, and I’m quite willing to take the chance.”
“Mr. Van Reypen, I do believe you’re hinting for an invitation to stay here to dinner!”
“Oh, Mrs. Fairfield, how clever you are! How could you possibly guess that, now?”
Nan laughed and hesitated. She liked the young man, but she wasn’t sure that Patty wanted him there. Patty was developing into a somewhat decided young person, and liked to make her own plans. And Nan well knew that Patty was the real magnet that drew Mr. Van Reypen so often to the house.
“What do you think?” she said, as the girl came into the room; “this plain-spoken young man is giving me to understand that, if he were urged, he would dine here to-night.”
“Of course, it would require a great deal of most insistent urging,” put in Philip.
“Don’t let’s urge him,” said Patty, but the merry smile she flashed at the young man belied her words.
“If you smile like that, I’ll do the urging myself,” he cried. “Please, Mrs. Fairfield, do let me stay; I’ll be as good as gold.”
“What say you, Patty?” asked Nan.
“He may stay,” rejoined Patty, “if he’ll help me with my work on those puzzles.”
“Puzzles? Well, I just guess I will! I’ll do them all for you. Where’s your slate and pencil?”
“Oh, not yet!” laughed Patty. “We won’t do those until after dinner.”
“Why do you do them at all?” asked Nan; “and what are they, anyway?”
“I’ll tell you,” began Patty; “no, I won’t, either. At least, not now. It’s a grand project,—a really great scheme. And I’ll unfold it at dinner, then father can hear about it, too.”
So, later, when the quartette were seated around the dinner table, Patty announced that she would tell of her great project.
“You see,” she began, “it’s a sort of advertisement for a big motor-car company.”
“Don’t try to float a motor-car company, Patty,” advised her father; “it’s too big a project for a young girl.”
“I’m not going to do that, Daddy Fairfield; but I begin to think that what I am going to do is almost as hard. You see, this big company has issued a book of a hundred puzzles. Now, whoever guesses all those puzzles correctly will get the prize. And,—the prize is a lovely electric runabout. And I want it!”
“Hevings! hevings!” murmured Mr. Van Reypen. “She wants an Electric Runabout! Why, Infant, you’ll break your blessed neck!”
“Indeed, I won’t! I guess I’ve brains enough to run an electric car! If I guess those puzzles, that’ll prove it. They’re fearfully hard! Listen to this one. ‘When did London begin with an L and end with an E?’”
“That is hard,” said Nan. “It must be some foreign name for London. But Londres won’t do.”
“No,”