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Page 23
"Oh, Patty, she's so queer! I haven't seen her for some years, but
she's not a bit as I remembered her."
"Oh, don't take it too seriously. Perhaps we can make her over to
suit ourselves. Did you expect her so early?"
"No; but she said she came early to avoid the midday heat. It's
almost eleven. Do finish dressing, Patty, and come down to see
her."
"Hasten me not, my child. Aunt Adelaide will keep, and I'm not in
rapid mood this morning."
"Oh, bother; come on down as you are, then. That negligee thing is
all right."
"No; Aunt Adelaide might think me a careless young person. I shall
get into a tidy frock, and appear before her properly."
"Well, go on and do it, then. I'll wait for you." Mona sat down to
wait, and Patty dropped into a chair before her dressing-table,
and soon twisted up her curls into presentable shape.
"I declare, Patty," Mona said, "the quicker you twist up that
yellow mop of yours, the more it looks like a coiffure in a
fashion paper."
"And, as a rule, THEY look like the dickens. But describe the
visitor to me, Mona."
"No; I'll let you get an unbiased first impression. Here's Janet,
now DO get dressed."
Except on occasions of haste, or elaborate toilette, Patty
preferred to dress herself, but she submitted to Janet's
ministrations, and in a few minutes was hooked into a fresh
morning dress of blue and white mull.
"On, Stanley, on!" she cried, catching Mona's hand, and dancing
out into the hall. "Where is the Calamity?"
"Hush, she'll hear you! Her rooms are just over here. She told me
to bring you."
As Patty afterward confided to Mona, she felt, when introduced to
Mrs. Parsons, as if she were making the acquaintance of a ghost.
The little lady was so thin, so pale, and so generally ethereal
looking, that it seemed as if a strong puff of wind would blow her
away.
Her face was very white, her large eyes a pale blue, and her hair
that ashen tint which comes when light hair turns grey. The hand
she languidly held out to Patty was transparent, and so thin and
limp that it felt like a glove full of small bones. Her voice was
quite in keeping with her general air of fragility. It was high,
thin and piping, and she spoke as if every word were a tax on her
strength.
"How do you do, my dear?" she said, with a wan little smile at
Patty. "How pretty you are! I used to be pretty, too; at least, so
they told me." She gave a trilling little laugh, and Patty said,
heartily, "I'm sure they were right; I approve their opinion."
This pleased Mrs. Parsons mightily, and she leaned back among her
chair cushions with a satisfied air.
Patty felt a distinct liking for the little lady, but she wondered
how she expected to perform a chaperon's duties for two vigorous,
healthy young girls, much inclined to gaieties.
"I am not ill," Mrs. Parsons said, almost, it seemed, in answer to
Patty's unspoken thought. "I am not very strong, and I can't stand
hot weather. But I am really well,--though of a delicate
constitution."
"Perhaps the sea air will make you stronger after a time,"
suggested Patty.
"Oh, I hope so; I hope so. But I fear not. However, I am trying a
new treatment, combined with certain medicines, which I am sure
will help my failing health. They tell me I am always trying new
remedies. But, you see, the advertisements recommend them so
highly that I feel sure they will cure me. And, then, they usually
make me worse."
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