The Nicest Girl in the School Part 12

"A great many things," said Patty. "Toys, of course, for the little ones. It's far harder to choose presents for Basil and Milly, and it will be terribly difficult to get one for Father, I'm sure. Why, there's Uncle Sidney! He's seen us, and he's crossing the street."

"Well, Patty," said Mr. Pearson, "what are you and Horace doing here?"

"We've come shopping," explained Horace. "Patty's going to hunt bargains to send home. She wants to buy eight Christmas presents for three s.h.i.+llings. Isn't she plucky?" he added, with a meaning glance at his father.

"You had better take her to Archer's stores," said Mr. Pearson, "and see what you can find there." Then, putting his hand in his pocket, he drew out a sovereign and slipped it into his niece's hand. "This is my present to you, Patty," he said. "Perhaps you would rather have it now than on Christmas Day. Spend it just as you like, my dear," and he hurried away almost before she had time to say "Thank you".

With such wealth at her disposal, Patty could now afford to be extravagantly generous, and I think she never enjoyed any afternoon in her life more than the one spent in Archer's stores. I fear she tried Horace's patience, after all, by looking at a great many unnecessary articles; but in the end she secured exactly what she wanted, and emerged from the crowded shop in such a state of bliss that he forbore to scold, and took her various packages instead--a great self-denial on his part, for he was a young gentleman who considered it much beneath his dignity to carry a parcel. I do not know which delighted Patty most, when she opened her treasures on her return, whether it was the pair of thick driving gloves for her father, or the books for Basil and Milly, or the wonderful toys for the little ones. Mary, the nurse, had not been forgotten--a pretty handkerchief-box was to bear her name; and there was even a bottle of scent for Anne, the kitchen servant, and a pencil-case for Hughes, the coachman.

"They'll be so surprised," she said. "I'm sure they won't expect such lovely presents as these."

"These aren't nearly so nice as the things Mother's sending them," said Muriel, turning over the toys in a rather disdainful manner.

"No, but they'll like them all the same, because they come from me. It will be so delightful to write 'From Patty' on each."

"Well, I should hardly have thought it worth while to go into town on purpose to buy them, and especially to drag poor Horace out on such a cold, foggy afternoon," said Muriel.

"She didn't drag me out, Sis; it was I who suggested it," interposed Horace. "Why can't you let her enjoy her presents without finding fault with them?"

"I'm not finding fault."

"Yes, you are."

"You're quite absurd about Patty."

"And you're not very kind."

"It's the first time you've ever called me unkind," said Muriel, flus.h.i.+ng angrily. "I think it's horrid of you to run away from me for a whole afternoon and then speak to me like this! You're unkind yourself!"

And throwing down the humming top which she had been examining, she stalked out of the room, and banged the door behind her. Horace, who was extremely fond of his sister, followed, and succeeded in making peace. Muriel was mollified when he played chess with her all the evening, and forgave him for what she considered his neglect; but his champions.h.i.+p of Patty did not make her love her cousin any the better.

CHAPTER IX

An Afternoon with Jean

If Patty had to rub her eyes rather vigorously with her pocket handkerchief on Christmas morning, I think there was every excuse for her. To be in a home which was not her own home seemed in some respects almost harder than being at school, for however kind relations may prove, they can never quite take the place of one's family on such a festival as Christmas Day. There were, of course, no presents for Patty from Kirkstone, nothing but a much-disinfected letter, which Aunt Lucy viewed with great uneasiness, and insisted that her niece should throw into the fire directly she had read it.

"I have such a horror of scarlet fever," she declared. "Neither Horace nor Muriel has ever had it, and germs can certainly be conveyed through notepaper. It will be wise, I think, to burn some sulphur pastilles in the room, and you had better wash your hands, Patty, with carbolic soap, as you have touched the letter. I hope your mother won't write to you very often. It would be much safer simply to send telegrams to say how the children are getting on. I'd really rather you didn't receive postcards from Milly."

"But Milly is quite well, and doesn't go near the ones who are ill,"

pleaded Patty.

"She might develop the disease at any time, though," said Mrs. Pearson.

"It's wiser to run no risks. I shall write to your father to-day, and mention the matter."

To lose Milly's daily postcards was a sad blow.

"I'm sure it's not necessary," thought Patty. "Father is so careful; he wouldn't let there be the slightest danger. Still, I suppose Aunt Lucy is nervous, and of course when I'm staying here I can't have letters if she's afraid of them. I do hope she'll let me go and have tea with Jean.

I shall be dreadfully disappointed if she says 'No'."

Jean's invitation was the event to which Patty looked forward most during the holidays, but it was a little doubtful whether she would be allowed to accept it, as, though they did not live far away, the Bannermans were not personal friends of Mr. and Mrs. Pearson. A letter arrived one morning from Jean, addressed to Muriel, asking both the girls to tea on the following Thursday, and, to Patty's dismay, her cousin at once declared that she did not intend to go.

"Jean Bannerman's all very well at school, but I really don't want to know her during the holidays," said Muriel. "I see quite as much of her at The Priory as I want. Do you think we need accept, Mother?"

"Well, darling, I must think about it," said Mrs. Pearson. "I have never been introduced to Mrs. Bannerman, and I don't usually let you go to houses where I don't visit myself. Still, on the other hand, I shouldn't like you to disappoint your schoolfellow or hurt her feelings."

"She won't be disappointed; she doesn't care about me in the least,"

said Muriel.

"Then why does she ask you?"

"I'm sure I don't know," replied Muriel, who never paused to consider that the invitation was also for Patty, and to consult her wishes on the subject of accepting it.

"I hardly know what excuse we can give," said Mrs. Pearson doubtfully.

"We must give some," persisted Muriel, "because the Holdens said they were going to ask me for Thursday, and I particularly want to go there.

I expect I shall hear from Trissie this evening. Can't we wait till to-morrow to answer Jean's letter?"

Muriel's expected invitation arrived the following morning, and furnished her with the excuse she needed for refusing the one from Jean.

"I shall write to her and say we can't either of us accept," she said decisively.

"Because you are both engaged for that afternoon," added Mrs. Pearson.

"Well, the Holdens haven't invited Patty," said Muriel, "but of course it doesn't matter."

"If I ask Mrs. Holden to include her in the invitation, I am sure she will do so," said Mrs. Pearson.

"If it won't make too many," began Muriel, frowning at the suggestion.

"Oh, Aunt Lucy!" cried Patty, waxing bold, "if the Holdens haven't really sent me an invitation, may I have tea with Jean instead? I should so like to go."

"It would certainly be a good way out of the difficulty," said Mrs.

Pearson. "I think that will be quite the best plan. You had better write, Muriel, and say that you have an engagement yourself, but your cousin will be pleased to accept."

Patty had never expected such luck as to be able to spend a whole afternoon with Jean without Muriel accompanying her, and she found it quite difficult to repress her delight. The time fixed was three o'clock, and punctual to the moment she started off, under the escort of one of the servants, to walk to the Bannermans' house, which was only a short distance from Thorncroft. Jean was watching for her at the window, and flew to the front door to welcome her.

"Here you are at last!" she exclaimed, when her friend was safely inside the hall. "I'm simply rejoiced to have you all to myself! I was obliged to ask Muriel too, but I'm so glad she couldn't come. Now we'll have a glorious time. Come into the drawing-room to see Mother, and then we'll go upstairs to my bedroom. I have ever so many things I want to show you."

Jean was the fortunate possessor of a particularly pretty little bedroom. It was furnished partly as a sitting-room, and a fire had been lighted there that afternoon, so that the two girls might indulge in a private chat. Patty sank into a cosy basket chair, but she did not stay there long, as she kept jumping up to look at the many treasures which decorated the walls, and about most of which Jean seemed to have some story to tell. Over the mantelpiece hung a fine pair of ram's horns that had been polished and mounted on an oak slab.

"They came from Scotland," said Jean, "and they're a souvenir of an adventure that Colin and I had when we were staying at our Uncle's."

"What happened?"