Patty's Motor Car

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER VII

  A NEIGHBOUR

  Two days later the Fairfields went down to Spring Beach.

  The intervening day was a busy one. Mr. Fairfield went with Patty toselect her motor car, for some details of equipment and upholstery wereleft to her choice. As the car had been built especially for the PrizeContest, it was a beautiful specimen of the finisher’s art. It was aStanhope, of graceful design and fine lines. The body was Royal Blue,with cushions of broadcloth of the same colour.

  Patty was informed she could have any other colour if she wished, butshe said the blue suited her best.

  There was a top which could be put up or down at will, wideskirt-protecting mudguards, and a full equipment of all necessaryparaphernalia, such as storm-apron, odometer, and a complete set oftools.

  Patty had carried with her her flower vase and clock, and the man incharge agreed to have them fastened in place. The flower vase, he said,was unusual on a Stanhope, but, when Patty said it _must_ be attachedsomewhere, he promised to have it done.

  The steering gear was a bar, fitted with a hand grip, and both this andthe controller were exceedingly simple and easily operated.

  The demonstrator offered to give Patty a driving lesson then and there,but Mr. Fairfield preferred that she should be taught by himself, or hisexperienced chauffeur, the trusty Miller.

  Of course, the men in charge of the salesroom where the car was onexhibition were greatly interested in seeing Patty, because she was thewinner of the contest. One young man stepped forward with a camera, andasked the privilege of taking a picture of Patty seated in her own car.

  But this Mr. Fairfield would not allow, and, after making the necessaryarrangements about shipping the motor to Spring Beach, he took Pattyaway.

  “Isn’t it fun, father?” she exclaimed, as she went off with him, herhands full of descriptive catalogues and circulars, telling of themarvellous superiority of the Rhodes and Geer cars over all competitors.

  “It’s lots more interesting than if you had just bought a car and givenit to me.”

  “And lots less expensive, too,” said Mr. Fairfield, smiling. “Why,Patty, girl, that whole affair, as it stands, is worth nearly threethousand dollars.”

  “Goodness gracious! Is it really? I had no idea they were so expensive!Why, your big car didn’t cost much more than that, did it?”

  “But, you see, this Stanhope of yours is a special car, in every way,and all its fittings and accessories are of the most up-to-date andextravagant type. You must do all you can for the company, by praisingit to your friends. I don’t think you can do any more than that tofurther their interests.”

  “Oh, I don’t feel under any obligation to the company. It was a businessenterprise on their part. They offered a prize and I won it. Now we’requits. Of course, I shall praise the car to my friends, but only becauseit’s such a beauty, and not because I feel that I owe anything to thecompany.”

  “You are rather a logical young woman, after all, Patty. Sometimes youseem a feather-headed butterfly, and then again you appear to have soundsense.”

  “A ‘feather-headed butterfly’ sounds pretty, I think. I guess I’ll bethat, mostly.”

  “You won’t have to try very hard,” remarked her father.

  “But sometimes I have spells of being very serious: for instance, wasn’tI serious when I tried so hard to earn fifteen dollars in one week?”

  “Yes, serious enough; but it was largely your stubborn determination tosucceed.”

  “Well, that’s a good trait to have, then. It’s what Mr. Hepworth callssteadfastness of purpose.”

  “Yes; they’re about the same thing. And I’m glad you have it; it’s whatwon the car for you.”

  “That, and my helpful friends.”

  “Oh, the helpful friends were incidental, like text-books orcyclopædias. I truly congratulate you, Patty, girl, on your real successin this instance. But I also ask of you not to go into anything of sucha public nature again, without consulting me first.”

  “All right, Father Fairfield, I promise.”

  And then they were at home again, and the luncheon hour was enlivened byPatty’s descriptions to Nan of her wonderful new toy.

  “Are you going to give it a name, Patty?” Nan asked, after hearing ofits glories.

  “Yes; but not until after I’ve used it. I can’t tell, you see, just whatsort of a name it needs until I try it. And, Nan, let’s do a littleshopping this afternoon. I want a new motor-coat, and a few othertrifles, to live up to the appearance of that thing of beauty.”

  The shopping was done, some marvellous motor-apparel was purchased, andthen, the next day, the departure from New York was made.

  They reached “The Pebbles” in mid-afternoon, and the ocean and sky werea glowing mass of blue and white and gold.

  Nan’s well-trained servants had the house open and ready for them, andPatty flew up the steps and into the great hall with a whoop of delight.

  “Isn’t it great, Nan! Isn’t it fine! More fun than travelling abroad ortouristing through Sunny It.! For, you see, this is our own home and weown it!”

  “Patty, your enthusiasm will wear you out some day. Do take it morequietly.”

  “Can’t do it! I’m of a nervous temperament and exuberant disposition,and I have to express my thinks!”

  The big hall was in reality a living-room. It extended straight throughthe house, with wide doors at either end. It had alcoves with cushionedseats, a huge fireplace, deep-seated windows, and from one side a broadstaircase curved upward, with a landing and balcony halfway.

  The wicker furniture was well-chosen and picturesque, besides being verycomfortable and inviting.

  “Just as soon as I can get a few things flung around, it will beperfect,” announced Patty. “At present, it’s too everlastinglycleared-up-looking.”

  She tossed on a table the magazines she had bought on the train, andflung her long veil over a chair back.

  “There, you see!” she said. “Watch that veil flutter in theseabreeze,—our own seabreeze, coming in at our own front door, and thentell me if ‘The Pebbles’ is a success!”

  “Yes; and, unless you shut that door, you’ll have a most successful coldin your head,” observed her father. “It’s May, to be sure, but itdoesn’t seem to be very thoroughly May, as yet.”

  So Patty shut the door, and then, opening the piano, she sang “Home,Sweet Home,” and then some gayer songs to express her enthusiasm.

  Her own rooms, Patty concluded, were the gem of the house. From herbalcony, on which she proposed to sleep, she had not only a wide view ofthe sea, but an attractive panorama of the beautiful estates along theshore. A hammock was slung between two of the pillars, and, throwingherself into this, with an Indian blanket over her, Patty swayed gentlyback and forth, and indulged in daydreams of the coming summer. An hourlater, Nan found her still there.

  “Come to tea, Patty,” she said; “we’re having it indoors, as the wind isrising.”

  “Yes, it’s breezing up quite some;” and Patty looked out at the waves,now so darkly blue as to be almost black.

  She followed Nan downstairs to the hall, and looked approvingly at thetea-table, set out near the blazing wood-fire.

  “Lovely!” she cried. “I believe I am chilly, after all. But the air isfine. Buttered muffins, oh, goody! Father, the table bills will be a lotbigger down here than in the city.”

  “I daresay; but I won’t begrudge them, if you will put some more fleshon that willowy frame of yours. You’re not strong, Patty, and I want youto devote this summer to building yourself up physically. No study, notmuch reading, no ‘Puzzle Contest’ work. Just rest, and exercisemoderately, and spend most of your time out-of-doors.”

  “Why, daddy dear, your plans and specifications exactly suit me! Howstrange that our ideas should be the same on this subject! You see, withmy new Stanhope, I’ll be out-of-doors all day, and, as I propose tosleep in th
e open, I’ll be out-of-doors all night. Can I do more?”

  “I’m not sure about this sleeping outside. You must never do it on dampor foggy nights.”

  “Now, father, the sanitariums advise it for everybody—every night.Well, I’ll agree not to sleep out in a thunderstorm, for I’m scared todeath of them.”

  “And you mustn’t begin it yet, anyway. It’s too cold. Wait until June,and then we’ll see about it.”

  “All right, I’ll agree to that. Why, somebody’s coming up the frontwalk! Nan, here comes our first caller. Wow! She’s a dasher!”

  In a few moments, Jane, the new parlour maid, admitted the visitor, andshe came in with a self-important flutter.

  “How do you do?” she said, cordially. “I’m Miss Galbraith,—MonaGalbraith, your next-door neighbour. At least, we live in the house withred chimneys, two blocks down, but there’s no house between us.”

  “How do you do, Miss Galbraith,” said Nan, rising to greet the guest,and followed by the others.

  “You see,” went on the young woman, volubly, after she had accepted theseat offered by Mr. Fairfield, “I thought I’d just run right in,informally, for you might feel a bit lonesome or homesick this firstday. So many people do.”

  “No,” said Patty, smiling, “we’re not lonesome or homesick, but it wasnice of you to come to see us in this neighbourly fashion. Have amuffin, won’t you?”

  “Indeed, I will; what delicious muffins! Did you bring your servantswith you?”

  “Some of them,” said Nan. “We’re simple people, and haven’t a largeretinue.”

  “Well, we have,” said Miss Galbraith. “And I’m at the head of the wholebunch. Just father and I; we live alone, you know. Will you come to seeus? Come to dinner, soon, won’t you?”

  “We’ll see about it,” said Nan, who scarcely knew how to take thisself-possessed and somewhat forward young person.

  Miss Galbraith wore a costume of embroidered white linen, but theembroidery was too elaborate, and the style of the gown rather extreme.She wore a long gold chain, with what Patty afterward called half a peckof “junk” dangling from it. There were a lorgnette, a purse, a cardcase,a pencil, a vinaigrette, a well-filled key-ring, and several othertrifles, all attached to the chain, and Miss Galbraith played with thetrinkets incessantly.

  “I hope we’ll be real good friends,” she said, earnestly, to Patty. “Iwant an intimate friend awfully, and I like your looks.”

  As Patty couldn’t honestly return the compliment, she said nothing inreply. Miss Galbraith’s personal appearance was comely, and yet it wasnot of the type with which Patty was accustomed to be friendly. Hersandy hair was too much curled and puffed, piled too high on her head,and held with too many jewelled pins; while her rather large handsshowed too many rings for a young girl.

  Her high-heeled, white shoes were too tight for her, and her easyattitudes and frank speech were too informal for a first call onstrangers.

  “Of course, we shall be friends,” said Nan, with just enough absence ofenthusiasm in her tones to convey to a sensitive mind her reservations.

  But Miss Galbraith hadn’t a sensitive mind.

  “Dear Mrs. Fairfield,” she said, effusively, “how good you are! I seeyou have the neighbourly instinct. Isn’t it nice that we’ll all be downhere together for the whole summer? Do you swim, Miss Fairfield? and doyou love to dance?”

  “Yes,” began Patty, “but——”

  As she hesitated, Mr. Fairfield came to his daughter’s rescue.

  “To be frank, Miss Galbraith,” he said, “I am trying to keep my daughterrather quiet this summer. I want her to exercise only moderately, and Imust positively forbid much dancing, and late hours, and all that sortof thing.”

  “Oh, that’s all right,” returned the visitor; “nobody keeps very latehours at Spring Beach. Well, I must run away now,—and I give you fairwarning! If you don’t come and return my call soon, I’ll come straightover here and return it myself!”

  She shook a playful finger at Patty, and, after voluble leave-takings,she went away, tripping down the walk with the satisfied air of one whohas accomplished her object.

  “Well!” said Patty, with an air of utter exasperation.

  “_Well!_” exclaimed Nan.

  Mr. Fairfield smiled grimly.

  “It’s our own fault,” he said. “We should have enquired as to thecharacter of the neighbours before we bought the house.”

  “How soon can you sell it, father?” asked Patty. “One more visitationlike that would give me nervous prostration! Mona! Mona, indeed! I neversaw a Mona before, but I might have known they were like that.”

  “But can’t you really stay here?” asked Mr. Fairfield, in alarm.

  “Nonsense, daddy, of course we can! Do you think I’d let myself bedispossessed by a mere Mona? No, sir; Nan and I can manage her.”

  “I don’t quite see how,” said Nan, thoughtfully. “She’s that impossiblesort. Oblivious to manner, impervious to hints. Patty, she’s dreadful!”

  “Of course she is, Sweet Nancy. She isn’t our sort. But I’ll attend toher. I don’t know how, just yet, but I’ll find out. She’s a problem tobe coped with, a difficulty to be overcome. But did you ever see such agown? There was just enough embroidery on it for three self-respectingfrocks. And her hair! Looked like the wax ladies’ coiffures in thehair-store windows!”

  “Don’t make rude personal remarks, Patty, girl.”

  “Oh, father, as if one could be rude to an object like that! Well,people dear, let’s put her out of our minds and hearts for the rest ofto-day, anyway. I won’t have the birthday of ‘The Pebbles’ spoiled by aslight incident like that. Forget it!”

  And so the impossible Miss Galbraith was voluntarily ignored.