CHAPTER IV
A FLORAL OFFERING
As the days went by, Patty and Lady Hamilton became close friends. Mr.and Mrs. Fairfield approved of the intimacy, for the elder woman'sinfluence was in every way good for Patty, and in return the girl broughtsunshine and happiness into Lady Hamilton's life.
They went together to concerts and picture exhibitions, but Patty couldrarely persuade her friend to go to a social affair.
"It's absurd, Lady Hamilton," said Patty, one day, "to shut yourself upas you do! All London wants you, and yet you won't go 'round and playpretty with them."
Ignoring this outburst, Lady Hamilton only smiled, and said: "Do youknow, Patty, I think it's time you dropped my formal title, and called meby my first name. I'd love to have you do so."
"I've often wondered what your first name is, but I haven't the slightestidea. Tell me."
"No, guess. What name do you think suits me?"
Patty considered.
"Well," she said, at last, "I think it must be either Ethelfrida orGwendolyn Gladys."
Lady Hamilton laughed merrily. "Prepare yourself for a sudden shock," shesaid. "I was named for my grandmother, Catharine."
"Catharine! What an absurd name for you! You're not even a Kate. But youare Lady Kitty, and I'll call you that, if I may."
"Indeed you may. Father used to call me Kitty, when I was a child, but asI grew older, I preferred my full name."
"Lady Kitty is just right for you, and when you're in the mood you're asaucy puss. Now, listen, the reason for my invasion of your premises thismorning is that I want you to go with me this afternoon to a tea on theTerrace of Parliament House."
Patty's tones were very persuasive, and she looked so daintily attractivein her fresh morning gown that few could have refused any request shemight make.
Lady Hamilton in a soft, frilly white negligee, was sipping her coffeeand looking over her letters when Patty had interrupted the process. Shelooked at her eager young guest with a slow, provoking smile, and saidonly:
"Nixy."
"But why not?" said Patty, smiling too, for she knew the Englishwoman hadlearned the slangy word from herself. "You'd have a lovely time. It's sobeautiful there, and the people are always so cordial and pleasant."
"But I don't want to go."
"But you _ought_ to want to. You're too young to give up the pomps andvanities of this world. How can I _make_ you go?"
"You can't."
"I know it! That's just the trouble with you. I never saw such astubborn, self-willed, determined----"
"Pigheaded?"
"Yes! and stupidly obstinate thing as you are! So, there now!"
They both laughed, and then Lady Hamilton said more seriously, "Shall Itell you why I won't go?"
"Yes, do, if you know, yourself."
"I know perfectly. I won't go to the Terrace because I'm afraid I'll meetmy father there."
"For goodness' sake! Is that the real reason? But you _want_ to bereconciled to him!"
"Yes, but you don't understand. We couldn't have a 'Come home and allwill be forgiven' scene on the Terrace, in sight of hundreds of people,so if I did see him, I should have to bow slightly, or cut him dead; itwould depend on his attitude toward me which I did. _Then_ the episodewould merely serve to widen the breach, and it would break me up fordays."
"I can't understand such conditions," said Patty, earnestly. "Why, if Iwere at odds with my father, and I can't even imagine such a thing, I'drush at him and fling myself into his arms and stay there till everythingwas all right."
"That's just because you're of a different temperament, and so is yourfather. My father is an austere, unbending man, and if I were on theTerrace and were to fling myself into his arms, he'd very likely fling meinto the Thames."
"You'd probably be rescued," said Patty, gravely; "there's always so muchtraffic."
"Yes, but father wouldn't jump in to rescue me, so I'd only spoil my gownfor nothing. Give it up, dear, it's a case outside your experience.Father and I are both too proud to make the first advance, and yet Ireally believe he wants me as much as I want him. He must be very lonelyin the great house, with only the servants to look after him."
"Perhaps he'll marry again," said Patty, thoughtfully; "my father did."
"I wish he would, but I've no hope of that. Now, never mind about mytroubles, tell me of your own. Who's taking you to the tea?"
"Mrs. Hastings. But she isn't giving it. We're to sit at some Member'stable; I don't know whose. The Merediths will be there, too. Tom andGrace, you know. I like them very much."
"Yes, they're nice children. I know them slightly. Patty, some day I'llgive a party for you, here in my rooms. How would you like that?"
"Oh, Lady Kitty, I'd love it! You'd have to come to that, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, indeed, you couldn't drive me away. Let's have a children's party.All dress as children, I mean; little children, or babies."
"Just the thing! I always wanted to see a party like that. I've onlyheard of them. Can we have it soon?"
"Next week, I think. I'll consult Mrs. Betham, and I think I can coax her'round to it; though she's bound to wet-blanket it at first."
"Oh, yes, you can coax her, I know. How good you are to me! I do havebeautiful times. Really too many for one girl. Honestly, Lady Kitty, doyou think it's right for me to lead such a butterfly life? I just flyabout from one entertainment to another; and even if I'm at home, oralone, I always have a good time. Sometimes I think I'm a very uselessmember of this busy world."
Lady Hamilton smiled kindly. "How old are you?" she said.
"I'll be eighteen next month."
"And you haven't set the Thames on fire, or won the Victoria Cross yet?But you're just at the age when your type of happy girlhood is oftenbeset with over-conscientious scruples. Don't give way to them, Patty. Itis not your lot to do definite, physical good to suffering humanity, likea Red Cross nurse, or the Salvation Army. Nor is it necessary that youshould work to earn your bread, like a teacher or a stenographer. But itis your duty, or rather your privilege, to shed sunshine wherever you go.I think I've never known any one with such a talent for spontaneous andunconscious giving-out of happiness. It is involuntary, which is itschiefest charm, but whoever is with you for a time is cheered andcomforted just by the influence of your own gladness. This is honesttalk, my child, and I want you to take it as I mean it. Don't _try_ to dothis thing, that would spoil it all; but just remember that you _do_ doit, and let that satisfy your desire to be a useful member of this busyworld."
"You're such a dear," said Patty, as she caressed her friend's handaffectionately; "if that's all true, and of course it is, since you sayso, I'm very glad. But can't I do something more definite, morevoluntary?"
"Of course there are always opportunities for doing good,--organisedcharities and those things that everybody takes part in. But if you wantto widen your own field of benefaction, simply know more people. Whetheryou know them socially or as casual acquaintances, you will almostinvariably add happiness to their lives, though it be in the meresttrifles. Now, I'm assuming that you have sense enough not to overdo thisthing, and thrust yourself upon people who don't want you."
"Madam," said Patty, in mock indignation, "you may trust me. I am anAmerican!"
"You are indeed; and you have what is known as Yankee good sense, if youare a mere infant."
"Eighteen is pretty old, _I_ think; and you're not so very ancient,yourself," retorted Patty; "but I'm willing to sit at your feet andacquire wisdom."
When dressed to go out that afternoon, Patty stopped at Lady Hamilton'sdoor to say good-bye.
"Come in, and let me see if you'll pass muster. Yes, that frilly,flowered muslin is just right for the Terrace; and that hat with longstreamers is truly pastoral."
"What's pastoral about the Terrace, pray?"
"Nothing but the ladies' clothes, and the lamb-like demeanour of theM.P.'s."
"I may see your father there."
"You may
. But he'll be an exception to the lamb-like ones. Here, let meput these valley lilies in your belt. They rather suit your costume."
"Oh, thank you; they're beautiful. If I see your father, I'll give him aspray and say you sent it."
"Very well; he'll then pitch you and the flowers all in the Thamestogether." "Well, at least we'll cause a sensation among the lambs.Good-by, Kitty lady."
"Good-bye, little one. Have a good time, and come in to tell me about itwhen you return."
The tea on the Terrace was a new delight. Patty had been through theHouses of Parliament before, but this was her first experience of thatunique function known as the Terrace Tea.
The broad, beautiful space was crowded with tables, and the tables werecrowded with people. Merry, chatting, laughing Londoners, Americans, andforeigners mingled in groups and drank tea together.
Mrs. Hastings and Patty were met by their host, Mr. Pauncefote, andescorted to a table, already surrounded by several people.
Patty felt greatly pleased when she found herself seated between Graceand Tom Meredith, and listened with interest as they designated variouscelebrated people who were strolling by.
"But, after all," she said, at last, "Dukes and Duchesses don't look verydifferent from ordinary people."
"Of course they don't. Why should they? They aren't any different," saidTom. "Indeed, Miss Fairfield, I've vanity enough to believe you'd find memore interesting than some of the Dukes."
"I'm sure you are," laughed Patty, "but if I were introduced to a realDuke, I'd be so scared I wouldn't know what to say."
"Now I call that too bad," declared Tom, with an aggrieved look. "And,pray, why aren't you scared when in my august society?"
"I am," said Patty, dimpling, as she smiled at him, "only I'msuccessfully striving not to show my quaking fright."
"That's better. I hope the longer you know me, the more awed you'll be ofmy,--of my----"
"Of your what?" calmly inquired his sister.
"'Pon my word, I don't know," confessed Tom, good-naturedly; "of myawesomeness, I suppose."
"How do you like London?" said a loud voice, in the tones that aresometimes called stentorian, and Patty suddenly realised that her hostwas addressing her.
A bit embarrassed at finding the eyes of all at the table upon her, sheanswered, shyly: "I love it; it is so--so kind to me."
"Bravo! Pretty good for an American," shouted Mr. Pauncefote, who seemedunable to moderate his voice. "And which do you like best, the people orthe show-places?"
"The people," said Patty, her embarrassment lost sight of in a flash ofmischief. "I like the Members of Parliament better than ParliamentHouse."
"Good! Good!" cried the portly M.P., striking the table with his fistuntil the cups rattled; "that's true Yankee cleverness. You're a goodsort, my child. Are they all like you in America?"
"Yes, I think so," said Patty, demurely; "are they all like you inEngland?"
Patty's innocent air of inquiry robbed the speech of all effect ofpertness, and the genial Mr. Pauncefote roared with delight.
"Ha, ha!" he cried; "all like me in England? No, my child, no! Heaven bepraised, there are very few after my pattern."
"That's too bad," said Patty. "I think your pattern is a good one."
"It is," said Tom Meredith. "If we had more statesmen after Mr.Pauncefote's pattern, the House of Commons would be better off."
This speech called forth applause from the other guests, and the hostsaid, loudly: "Pshaw, pshaw!" but he looked greatly pleased.
When the tea was over and the party rose from the table, Mr. Pauncefotedetained Patty for a moment's chat, while the others broke up intosmaller groups or wandered away.
"I want you to meet my daughter," he was saying; "the young lady in grayover there, talking to Sir Otho."
"Sir Otho who?" said Patty, quickly, forgetting to respond in regard toMiss Pauncefote.
"Sir Otho Markleham; see the large gentleman with gold-rimmed glasses.She is my youngest daughter, and I know she'd be glad to meet you."
"I'd be delighted," said Patty, but her attention centred on Sir Otho.
Could it be that was Lady Hamilton's severe father? He did not look soobstinate as she had imagined him, but as she drew nearer, she observedthe firm set of his square jaw and reversed her opinion.
Sir Otho was very tall and big, and his smoothly brushed hair was lightbrown without a trace of gray.
He wore closely-trimmed whiskers, of the style known as "mutton-chop,"and his cold gray eyes almost glittered as he looked through his glasses.The introduction to Miss Pauncefote implied also an introduction to SirOtho, and in a moment Patty found herself chatting in a group of whichLady Kitty's father was one.
There was something about the big man that awed her, and she naturallyfell into conversation with Miss Pauncefote, while the two gentlementalked together. But as they were all about to separate, and even afterSir Otho had said good-afternoon, Patty hesitated irresolutely for asecond, and then turned back toward him again.
"Sir Otho," she said, timidly.
"Well, ma'am, what is it?" was the response as he turned in surprise tolook at her.
"I am very glad to meet you," said Patty, and as soon as the words wereuttered, she realised how absurd they were.
"Thank you, ma'am," said the puzzled gentleman. He was very unresponsive,and showed in his face that he thought little of this exhibition ofAmerican forwardness.
"Especially so," Patty went on, "because I know your daughter, LadyHamilton."
"Bless my soul!" ejaculated Sir Otho Markleham, the red blood dyeing hislarge face crimson, and his eyes fairly snapping with anger.
"Yes, I do," went on Patty, resolved now to plunge in desperately, "andshe sent you these flowers."
Patty had previously detached two or three of the prettiest sprays of thelilies of the valley, and now held them out, with the air of onefulfilling a trust.
For a moment Sir Otho Markleham looked as if he would really like topitch the American girl and her flowers into the river, and then, almostmechanically, he took the blossoms from Patty's hand.
Then, with a straight, cold stare at her, he said, in a hard voice: "Ihave no daughter," and after a stiff, formal bow, he walked away.