Read Patty in Paris Page 7


  CHAPTER VII

  WESTERN FRIENDS

  The girls slept restfully all night, and were awakened in the morningby the entrance of Lisette, who was followed by the pleasant-faced andvoluble French stewardess. The day was bright and sunshiny, and half adozen times while she was dressing Patty stuck her head out of theporthole to gaze at the sparkling blue water. On these occasions Elisegrasped her by the feet lest she should fall out. But as Patty'ssubstantial frame could not possibly have squeezed through theporthole, the precaution was unnecessary.

  After breakfast the girls prepared for a delightful morning on deck.The breeze had freshened considerably, so Patty put on a long, warmulster that enveloped her from throat to feet. A long blue veil tiedher trim little hat in place, and when fully equipped she looked overthe piles of literature to make a selection.

  "Do you know," she said to Elise, "I don't believe I shall read much; Ithink I shall just sit and look at the water and dream."

  "All right," said her practical friend; "but take a book with you, forif you don't you're sure to want one; while if you do, you probablywon't look at it."

  "Elise, you're a genius. I'll take the book, and also some of thiscandy. I'm glad Hilda gave me this bag; it's most convenient."

  The bag in question was a large, plain affair of dark green cloth, witha black ribbon drawstring. It proved to be Patty's constant companion,as it was roomy enough to hold gloves, veils, handkerchiefs, as well aspencil and paper, and anything else they might need through the day. Ithung conveniently on the back of Patty's deck chair, and became asfamous as the bag of the lady in "Swiss Family Robinson."

  As Patty had anticipated, she did not do any reading that morning, butneither did she gaze at the ocean and dream. She discovered that lifeon an ocean steamer is apt to be full of incident and abounds inoccupation.

  No sooner had she and Elise arranged themselves in their chairs thanalong came two gay and laughing girls, who stopped to talk to them.

  "We're going to introduce ourselves," said one of them. "I am AliciaVan Ness, and this is my little sister Doris. We're from Chicago, andwe like the looks of you girls, and we want to be chums. Though, ofcourse, it's up to you, and if you don't like our looks you've only tosay so and we'll never trouble you again."

  "Speak out!" chimed in the other girl, who was quite as vivacious asher sister. "We're not a bit stupid, and we can take the slightesthint. I can see you don't quite approve of us"--and she looked shrewdlyat Patty, who had unconsciously assumed an air of hauteur as shewatched the frank-mannered Western girls--"but really and truly we'reawfully nice after you get acquainted with us."

  Patty was amused, and a little ashamed that a stranger should have readher feelings so accurately, for she had felt slightly repelled at thesomewhat forward manners of these would-be friends.

  As if to make up for her coolness she said heartily: "I'm sure you aredelightful to know, and I'm quite ready to be friends if you will allowit. I'm Patty Fairfield, and this is my chum, Elise Farrington."

  "We knew your names," said Alicia Van Ness; "we asked the captain. Yousee, we thought you two were the nicest girls on board, but if you hadthrown us down we were going to tackle the English girl next."

  Though this slangy style of talk was not at all to Patty's liking, shesaw no reason to reject the offered friendship because of it. The VanNess sisters might prove to be interesting companions, in spite oftheir unconventional ways. So two vacant chairs were drawn up, and thefour girls sat in a group, and very soon were chatting away like oldfriends.

  "Do you know the English girl?" asked Doris; "she sits at your table."

  "No," said Elise; "she's way down at the other end from us. But I likeher looks, only she's so very English that I expect she's rather stiffand hard to get acquainted with."

  "You can't say that about us, can you?" said Alicia, laughing; "I'm aseasy as an old shoe, and Doris as an old slipper. But we hope you'lllike us, because we do love to be liked. That English girl's name isFlorrie Nash. Isn't that queer? She doesn't look a bit like a Florrie,does she? More like a Susan or a Hannah."

  "Or more like a Catharine or Elizabeth, I think," said Patty. "But younever can tell people's names from what they look like."

  "No," said Alicia; "now a stranger would say you looked like my name,and I looked like yours."

  "That's true enough," said Elise, laughing; "your jolly ways are not atall like your grand-sounding name; and as for Patty here, it's aperfect shame to spoil her beautiful name of Patricia by such anickname."

  Two young men in long plaid ulsters with turned-up collars and plaidyachting caps came into view at the other end of the deck. They werewalking with swinging strides in the direction of the group of girls.

  "Now I'll show you," said Alicia in a low voice, "how we Chicago girlsscrape acquaintance with young men."

  As the young men drew nearer Alicia looked at them smilingly and said"Ahem" in a low but distinct voice. The young men looked at her andsmiled, whereupon Doris purposely dropped a book she had been holding.The young men sprang to pick it up, Doris took it and thanked them, andthen made a further remark as to the beauty of the weather. The youngmen replied affably, and then Alicia asked them to join their group andsit down for a chat.

  "With pleasure," said one of the young men, glancing at Patty andElise, "if we may be allowed."

  Patty was surprised and shocked at the behaviour of these strangegirls, and very decidedly expressed her opinion in her face. Withoutglancing at the young men, she turned on the Van Ness sisters a look ofextreme disapproval, while Elise looked frightened at the wholeproceeding.

  The two horrified countenances were too much for the Van Ness girls,and they burst into peals of laughter.

  "Oh, my children," cried, Alicia, "did you really think us sounconventional, even if we are from Chicago? These two boys are ourcousins, Bob and Guy Van Ness, and they are travelling with us incharge of our parents. Stand up straight, infants, and be introduced.Miss Farrington and Miss Fairfield, may I present Mr. Robert Van Nessand Mr. Guy Porter Van Ness?"

  The young men made most deferential bows, and, greatly appreciating thejoke, Patty invited them to join their party, and offered them some ofher confectionery.

  "But it's a shame to sit here," observed Guy, "when there's lots of fungoing on up on the forward deck. Don't you girls want to go up thereand play shuffleboard?"

  "I do," said Patty readily; "I've always wanted to play shuffleboard,though I've no idea whether it's played with a pack of cards or a teaset."

  Guy laughed at this and promised to teach her the game at once.

  So they all went up to the upper deck, which was uncovered, and where,in the sunlight, groups of young people were playing different games.

  Both Patty and Elise delighted in outdoor sports, and the Van Nessgirls were fond of anything athletic. During the games they all madethe acquaintance of Florrie Nash, who, though of an extreme Englishtype, proved less difficult to make friends with than they had feared.

  They also met several young men, among whom Patty liked best a youngEnglishman of big-boyish, good-natured type, named Bert Chester, and ayoung Frenchman of musical tastes. The latter was a violinist, by thename of Pierre Pauvret. He seemed a trifle melancholy, Patty thought,but exceedingly refined and well-bred. He stood by her side as sheleaned against the rail, looking at the water, and though evidentlydesirous to be entertaining, he seemed to be at a loss for something tosay.

  Patty felt sorry for the youth and tried various subjects withoutsuccess in interesting him, until at last she chanced to refer tomusic. At this Mr. Pauvret's face lighted up and he became enthusiasticat once.

  "Ah, the music!" he exclaimed; "it is my life, it is my soul! Andyou--do you yourself sing? Ah, I think yes."

  "I sing a little," said Patty, smiling kindly at him, "but I have nothad much training, and my voice is small."

  "Ah," said the Frenchman, "I have a certainty that you sing like anangel. But we shall see--we shall see.
There will be a concert on boardand you will sing. Is it not so?"

  "I don't know," said Patty, smiling; "I will sing with pleasure if I amasked, but it may not give my audience pleasure."

  "It will be heaven for them!" declared the volatile young Frenchman,clasping his hands in apparent ecstasy.

  His exaggerated manner amused Patty, for she dearly loved to study newtypes of people, and she began to think there was a varied assortmenton board.

  Suddenly several people rushed wildly to the side of the boat. Theywere followed by others, until it seemed as if everybody was crowdingto the rail. Patty followed, of course, and found herself standing bythe side of Bert Chester.

  "What is it?" she exclaimed.

  "A porpoise!" he replied, as if announcing an event of greatestimportance.

  "A porpoise!" echoed Patty, disgusted. "Such a fuss about a porpoise?Why, it's nothing but a fish!"

  "My dear Miss Fairfield," said the Englishman, looking at her throughhis single eyeglass, "tradition demands that steamer passengers shallalways make a fuss over a passing porpoise. To be sure it's only afish, but the fuss is because of tradition, not because of the fish."

  Patty had always thought that a single eyeglass betokened a brainlessfop, but this stalwart young Englishman wore his monocle so naturally,and, moreover, so securely, that it seemed a component part of him.And, too, his speech was that of a quick-witted, humorous mind, andPatty began to think she must readjust her opinion.

  "Is it an English national trait," she said, "to be so in thrall totradition?"

  "I'm sorry to say it is," young Chester responded, somewhat gravely."In the matter of the porpoise it is of no great importance; but thereare other matters, do you see, where Englishmen are so hampered bytradition that individual volition is often lost."

  This was more serious talk than Patty was accustomed to, but somehowshe felt rather flattered to be addressed thus, and she tried to answerin kind.

  "But," she said, "if the tradition is the result of the wisdom of pastages, may it not be of more value than individual volition?"

  "By Jove!" exclaimed Mr. Chester, "you have a clever little head onyour young shoulders, to take that point so adroitly. But let us deferthis somewhat serious discussion until another time and see if it is aporpoise or something else that it attracting the curious crowd to theother side of the ship."

  As they followed the hurrying people across the deck, Mr. Chester wenton: "After you have crossed the ocean a few more times you willdiscover that there are only two things which make the people rushfrantically and in hordes to the rail. The one that isn't a porpoise isa passing steamer."

  Sure enough, the object of interest this time was a distant steamer,which was clearly visible on the horizon. It was sharply outlinedagainst the blue sky, and the sunlight gave it its true value ofcolour, while the dark smoke that poured from its smokestack floatedback horizontally like a broad ribbon. But owing to the distance therewas no effect of motion, and even the smoke as well as the vesselseemed to be stationary.

  "That isn't a real steamer," said Patty whimsically; "it's achromo-lithograph. I've often seen them in the offices of steamshipcompanies. This one isn't framed, as they usually are, but it's only achromo all the same. There's no mistaking its bright colouring and thatbadly painted smoke."

  Young Chester laughed. "You Americans are so clever," he said. "Now anEnglish girl would never have known that that was only a paintedsteamer. But as you say, you can tell by the smoke. That's pretty badlydone."

  Patty took a decided liking to this jesting Englishman, and thought himmuch more entertaining than the melancholy French musician.

  She discovered that very evening that Mr. Chester possessed a finevoice, and when after dinner a dozen or more young people gatheredround the chairs of the Farrington party, they all sang songs untilMrs. Farrington declared she never wanted to attend a more delightfulconcert.

  Mr. Pauvret brought his violin, and the Van Ness boys produced a banjoand a madolin. Everybody seemed to sing at least fairly well, and someof the voices were really fine. Patty's sweet soprano received manycompliments, as also did Elise's full, clear contralto. The girls wereaccustomed to singing together, and Mr. Pauvret proved himself a truemusician by his sympathetic accompaniments.

  Everybody knew the popular songs of the day, and choruses and gleeswere sung with that enthusiasm which is always noticeable on the water.

  The merry party adjourned to the dining-room for a light supper aftertheir vocal exercises.

  Patty was sorry that her friend and tablemate, the old Ma'amselle, hadnot been visible since that first dinner. Upon inquiry she learned thatthe old lady had fallen a victim to the effects of the rolling sea.

  "But she'll soon be around again," said the captain in his bluff,cheery way; "Ma'amselle Labesse has crossed with me many times, andthough she usually succumbs for two or three days, she is a good sailorafter that. She is passionately fond of music, too, and when she isabout again you young people must make the old ship ring for her."

  This they readily promised to do, and then they wound up the evening bya vigorous rendition of the "Marseillaise," followed by "The StarSpangled Banner" and "God Save the King."

  It was all a delightful experience for Patty, who dearly loved lightsand music and flowers and people and gay goings on, and she felt thatshe was indeed a fortunate girl to have all these pleasures come to her.