Patty Blossom Part 24

"Advancement of beauty and appreciation of art," replied Alla, looking thoughtful and a little affected.

"Interpretation of beauty," amended her brother. "We endeavour to imbue our souls with the highest and best emotions and to discard and disown all that is merely conventional and formal in life or in thought."

"Meaning the outward and ordinary signs of clothes and manners?" said Chick.

Patty detected the chaffing note in his voice, but his tone was grave and respectful, and after a quick glance at him, Blaney replied, "Yes, and the inner graces of poesy and music of the soul."

"In fact, you use your soul instead of your mind or brain," Chick continued, and now Patty gave him an imploring glance, meant to beg him not to guy the Cosmic principles.

But Alla had no thought of Chick's insincerity. "That is it," she said. "We use our souls for everything, even physical processes. One of our geniuses is inventing a dance for Miss Fairfield. Appreciating her genius for dancing, he is making a masterpiece in which she can dance with her soul----"

"Put her whole sole in her dancing," said Chick, with enough emphasis to point his jest.

"Yes," went on Alla, unmoved, though Mr. Fairfield nearly choked as he watched her intent face, "just that. Unless one does use one's soul it becomes rusted and useless."

Her face was drawn with intensity, her lifted hand shook a long slender forefinger at Chick, and that urbane young man had just about all he could do to preserve his gravity.

But he went calmly on. "Do you know," he said, "I sometimes think my soul is a bit rusty."

"Very likely," said Sam Blaney, who didn't like to be long out of the conversation. "Suppose you join our coterie and get the rust removed.

Nor am I joking, Mr. Channing. Many there be who laugh at our earnestness, but only because of their own ignorance."

"I dare say that is so," put in Fred Fairfield, in sincere tones; "that's why I'm specially interested in knowing just what you do to tinker up a rusty soul. Pardon my rude diction, but I am not aesthetic myself. However, I am deeply interested."

"I feel sure you are, Mr. Fairfield," and Alla gave him a soulful glance; "and though it is not easy I will try to give you a hint of our methods."

"Let me tell him, Alla," insisted Sam, and he waved her to silence with a gesture of his long, white hand. "You see, sir, it is not often we meet such a receptive nature as you kindly show, and I am but too glad to gratify your most justifiable curiosity and Interest."

"Me, too," cried Chick. "Pray don't leave me out. I truly want to know what will clean the rust off my soul."

Again Patty besought him by urgent glances to beware of offending her guests, but Chick shook his head, indicating there was no danger. Nor was there. Though Mr. Fairfield and Channing both were consumed with merriment at the idea of their rusty souls, the Blaneys were quite in earnest and proceeded to dilate on their favourite subjects.

"Once under the influence of our atmosphere and our beliefs," avowed Blaney, "your soul expands and flowers out like a star!"

"Oh, how beautiful!" breathed Chick, with such a rapt expression, that Patty had to put up her napkin quickly to hide her smile.

"Yes," said Alla, "my brother says wonderful things. His own soul is ineffably sweet."

"It must be!" and Chick looked at Blaney with an adoring gaze that nearly sent Nan into convulsions.

Patty was scared, for if Chick kept this up the Blaneys must realise his intent and would be mortally offended.

"How near Christmas is getting," she interrupted, blithely, determined to change the subject. "Have you all your gifts ready, Alla?"

"Patty," said Chick, reprovingly, "how can you introduce commonplace subjects just now? I'm learning to remove rust stains from my dingy old soul. By the way, how would it do to scour one's soul with the sands of time?"

"Beautiful!" cried Sam. "Wonderful! What imagery! I wish I had said that!"

"You may, as often as you like," granted Chick, politely. "I'll be proud if you'll accept it. Among unrusted souls, there should be no give and take. My thoughts are yours. I am honoured."

"You are a delight," said Alla, calmly, looking at Chick, who blushed at this unexpected compliment. "I have never met any one so quickly responsive, so immediately _simpatica_."

"Except me," cried Patty. "You said I was that. Simp--what--d'ye call it? Now there are two of us, Chick."

"We are all _simpatica_," said Nan, who, like Patty, began to fear Chick's chaff would yet offend the guests. And then, she determinedly led the conversation away from soulful matters and talked of current events and casual subjects that had no aesthetic significance.

But it was difficult to keep the Blaneys off their favourite themes and hard to quell the fun of the irrepressible Chick.

And so, Nan was rather relieved when at a surprisingly early hour the two aesthetes took their leave.

"Oh, Piccalilli blossoms!" cried Chick, when they were fairly out of hearing, "did you ever see anything like that! Where did you unearth them, Patty? The lady one, especially! Wow, but she's a five-reel scream!"

"Stop that, Chick; I think you're real mean! You made me enough trouble at the dinner table, and you needn't make fun of my friends behind their backs."

"But Patty, such backs! I mean, such friends! Oh, I didn't think I could restrain my laughter till they went away from here,--but I managed to do so. Souls! Rusty souls! Wowly-wow-wow!"

"Chick, stop it. I tell you, I won't have it!"

"I'll stop in a minute, Patty. Let me laugh a minute, or I'll explode.

I say, Mrs. Fairfield, did you ever see anything like the lady's robe!

I don't often notice costumes of the fair s.e.x, but that was a hummer from Humville."

"Don't, Chick," said Nan, noticing Patty's quivering lip; "they're Patty's friends, and I'd rather you wouldn't ridicule them."

"I'd rather not myself, honest, Mrs. Fairfield, I'd rather not, but what can you do when they come running up, begging to be ridiculed?"

"They didn't," declared Patty. "n.o.body would have thought of ridiculing them, Chick, if you hadn't. They talked a lot of wisdom that you couldn't a.s.similate, and you're envious of their superior minds, that's what ails you."

"Patty, Patty," said her father, laughing outright at this, "my dear child, are you really so infatuated with those people that you believe what you're saying?"

"Of course, I am. I don't expect you to understand them, Father, you're older, and belong to another generation."

"Good gracious, Patty," cried Nan, gasping, "do you think your father is too old to understand that drivel?"

"I do," said Patty, calmly, "and you are too, Nan. It takes the modern viewpoint, the young soulsight to apprehend the beauty of vision, the vast--vast----"

"Horizon," suggested Chick, kindly.

"Yes, horizon," said Patty; "how did you know, Chick?"

"Oh, horizons are always vast. Deeps are vasty. Nothing much else is vast, except once in a while a distance. So I felt safe in chancing the horizon."

"Oh, Chick, you are the funniest thing!" said Nan, who was shaking with laughter at Patty's chagrin. "But," and her voice suddenly became serious, "I won't stand for your nonsense. I range myself on Patty's side. These people were our guests. I forbid any slighting allusions to them. Their ways may not be our ways, but if they are Patty's friends they are my friends."

The warm, sincere ring of Nan's voice went to Patty's heart, and she smiled again.

"Good for you, you old trump!" she exclaimed, looking gratefully at Nan. "Now, Dad, you come over, and I can manage Chick, myself."