CHAPTER XII
AN ODD DINNER PARTY
A few nights later, Patty invited the two Blaneys to dinner. Nanwanted to meet Alla, and Mr. Fairfield, too, expressed a desire to seethese new friends of Patty's.
"Me and the two companies is three," said Patty, making up her party,"and you and Dad are five. Who'd make a good sixth?"
"Only six?" asked Nan. "Why not a big dinner?"
"No; I don't think so. You see, the Blaneys don't fit in witheverybody, and I want them to have a good time."
"Oh, I mean ask their own sort of people."
Patty looked up, quickly. "Now, Nan, don't be unpleasant. You'reimplying that their kind of people are not as nice as our kind, andthat hurts my feelinks, and you know it. I want you wid me onthis,--not agin me."
"I am, Patty. I don't mean to be horrid. Well, have six, if you like.Who else?"
"Chick Channing, I think. He's so adaptable and all-round nice witheverybody. Phil hates the Blaneys, and----"
"Mr. Farnsworth?"
"I don't think he'd like them, either. And,--too,--Bill isn't verychummy with me lately."
"Why not?"
"Dunno."
"Did you quarrel?"
"Now, Nan, don't ask such leading questions. We didn't exactlyquarrel, and yet again, I suppose we did quarrel,--at least, I did,--hedidn't. I sort of snubbed him, and he took it more seriously than Imeant, if you call that a quarrel. But anyway, he wouldn't stand forthe Blaney crowd, I'm sure of that."
"All right, ask Chick. As you say, he'll chum with anybody. He's asplendid dinner guest."
Channing accepted the invitation with pleasure, and the party was madeup.
"I don't want anything eccentric or foolish," Patty said to Nan,regarding the appointments, "but I do want it aesthetic and artistic."
"You can arrange it as you like, dear," Nan said, kindly, and Patty did.
The dining-room was dimly lighted, and the table decoration consistedof an enormous bronze placque, which Patty took down from the hallwall. This held a small amount of water, and on it floated threepansies. The table candles wore deep purple shades, and Nan privatelythought the whole effect dull and gloomy enough, but she said no wordof criticism.
Patty appeared, in a flowing, robe-like costume of pale violet chiffon,and wore pansies in her hair over each ear.
"Well!" exclaimed her father, as he saw her, "I thought you could wearany colour, but take my advice, Kiddie, and never brave lavender again!It makes you look old and sallow."
"Nothing of the sort!" denied Patty. "You're unaccustomed to seeing mein it, that's all."
Then Channing came, and Patty had to bear his disapproving glances.
"You're an angel in anything," he said, "but you're least angelic inthat mawkish mauve. You look like a member of the Art Students' Union."
Patty didn't mind their chaff, and only smiled good-naturedly, and thenthe Blaneys came.
Patty was used to their aesthetic effects, but the others weren't, andthough the greetings were cordial and courteous, the elder Fairfieldsneeded a moment to recover their poise. But Chick Channing was alwaysto be depended upon, and he plunged into gay conversation that brokethe ice and did away with all self-consciousness.
Nor was it surprising that the appearance of the brother and sistershould strike an observer as startling. Alla was swathed inyellowish-brown stuff. Her gown seemed to have no shape or design,just draperies that wrapped her about in mummy fashion. Long sleevescame well down over her hands, a high collar rose over her ears, andthe long skirt twined itself round her feet, till she could scarcelywalk. The material was a woolly serge, and no bit of colour ortrimming relieved the severity. She wore no ornament save a hideousnecklace of great, ugly stones, that fell down as far as her knees, andcarried a dilapidated old fan of peacock feathers. Patty had neverseen her look so unattractive, for even in her eccentric garb, she wasusually picturesque. But in this brown thing she was utterly withoutcharm.
Sam Blaney, too, looked ill-dressed and out of place. He had bowed toconvention to the extent of wearing evening clothes, but they were notof correct cut, and did not fit well, and he wore an absurd tie of softsilk, of his favourite light green hue, which gave him the appearanceof a caricature.
However, the two were most affable and agreeable, and their soft, lowvoices murmured pleasantries suitable to the occasion.
At dinner the conversation turned on the approaching Christmascelebration of the Cosmic Centre.
"What a funny name," said Channing. "Sounds like a small village inNew England."
"So it does," returned Sam Blaney, taking the jest in good part. "Butwe call our club that modest little name because we think ourselves thecentre of the Universe."
"I always admire self-respect," said Mr. Fairfield, smiling; "I holdthat a man or a club with full appreciation of self-merit can't go farwrong."
"And Cosmic Centre is so very expressive," said Channing. "I don't seehow you could have well found anything more inclusive."
"Mrs. Fairfield calls you the Cosmickers," put in Patty, smiling at Nan.
"And a very good name," agreed Alla. "Cosmickers sounds a bit likepicknickers, and often that's what we are."
"What is your real end and aim?" asked Mr. Fairfield, seriously.
"Advancement of beauty and appreciation of art," replied Alla, lookingthoughtful and a little affected.
"Interpretation of beauty," amended her brother. "We endeavour toimbue our souls with the highest and best emotions and to discard anddisown all that is merely conventional and formal in life or inthought."
"Meaning the outward and ordinary signs of clothes and manners?" saidChick.
Patty detected the chaffing note in his voice, but his tone was graveand respectful, and after a quick glance at him, Blaney replied, "Yes,and the inner graces of poesy and music of the soul."
"In fact, you use your soul instead of your mind or brain," Chickcontinued, and now Patty gave him an imploring glance, meant to beg himnot to guy the Cosmic principles.
But Alla had no thought of Chick's insincerity. "That is it," shesaid. "We use our souls for everything, even physical processes. Oneof our geniuses is inventing a dance for Miss Fairfield. Appreciatingher genius for dancing, he is making a masterpiece in which she candance with her soul----"
"Put her whole sole in her dancing," said Chick, with enough emphasisto point his jest.
"Yes," went on Alla, unmoved, though Mr. Fairfield nearly choked as hewatched her intent face, "just that. Unless one does use one's soul itbecomes rusted and useless."
Her face was drawn with intensity, her lifted hand shook a long slenderforefinger at Chick, and that urbane young man had just about all hecould do to preserve his gravity.
But he went calmly on. "Do you know," he said, "I sometimes think mysoul is a bit rusty."
"Very likely," said Sam Blaney, who didn't like to be long out of theconversation. "Suppose you join our coterie and get the rust removed.Nor am I joking, Mr. Channing. Many there be who laugh at ourearnestness, but only because of their own ignorance."
"I dare say that is so," put in Fred Fairfield, in sincere tones;"that's why I'm specially interested in knowing just what you do totinker up a rusty soul. Pardon my rude diction, but I am not aestheticmyself. However, I am deeply interested."
"I feel sure you are, Mr. Fairfield," and Alla gave him a soulfulglance; "and though it is not easy I will try to give you a hint of ourmethods."
"Let me tell him, Alla," insisted Sam, and he waved her to silence witha gesture of his long, white hand. "You see, sir, it is not often wemeet such a receptive nature as you kindly show, and I am but too gladto gratify your most justifiable curiosity and Interest."
"Me, too," cried Chick. "Pray don't leave me out. I truly want toknow what will clean the rust off my soul."
Again Patty besought him by urgent glances to beware of offending herguests, but Chick shook his head, indicating there was no dange
r. Norwas there. Though Mr. Fairfield and Channing both were consumed withmerriment at the idea of their rusty souls, the Blaneys were quite inearnest and proceeded to dilate on their favourite subjects.
"Once under the influence of our atmosphere and our beliefs," avowedBlaney, "your soul expands and flowers out like a star!"
"Oh, how beautiful!" breathed Chick, with such a rapt expression, thatPatty had to put up her napkin quickly to hide her smile.
"Yes," said Alla, "my brother says wonderful things. His own soul isineffably sweet."
"It must be!" and Chick looked at Blaney with an adoring gaze thatnearly sent Nan into convulsions.
Patty was scared, for if Chick kept this up the Blaneys must realisehis intent and would be mortally offended.
"How near Christmas is getting," she interrupted, blithely, determinedto change the subject. "Have you all your gifts ready, Alla?"
"Patty," said Chick, reprovingly, "how can you introduce commonplacesubjects just now? I'm learning to remove rust stains from my dingyold soul. By the way, how would it do to scour one's soul with thesands of time?"
"Beautiful!" cried Sam. "Wonderful! What imagery! I wish I hadsaid that!"
"You may, as often as you like," granted Chick, politely. "I'll beproud if you'll accept it. Among unrusted souls, there should be nogive and take. My thoughts are yours. I am honoured."
"You are a delight," said Alla, calmly, looking at Chick, who blushedat this unexpected compliment. "I have never met any one so quicklyresponsive, so immediately _simpatica_."
"Except me," cried Patty. "You said I was that. Simp--what--d'ye callit? Now there are two of us, Chick."
"We are all _simpatica_," said Nan, who, like Patty, began to fearChick's chaff would yet offend the guests. And then, she determinedlyled the conversation away from soulful matters and talked of currentevents and casual subjects that had no aesthetic significance.
But it was difficult to keep the Blaneys off their favourite themes andhard to quell the fun of the irrepressible Chick.
And so, Nan was rather relieved when at a surprisingly early hour thetwo aesthetes took their leave.
"Oh, Piccalilli blossoms!" cried Chick, when they were fairly out ofhearing, "did you ever see anything like that! Where did you unearththem, Patty? The lady one, especially! Wow, but she's a five-reelscream!"
"Stop that, Chick; I think you're real mean! You made me enoughtrouble at the dinner table, and you needn't make fun of my friendsbehind their backs."
"But Patty, such backs! I mean, such friends! Oh, I didn't think Icould restrain my laughter till they went away from here,--but Imanaged to do so. Souls! Rusty souls! Wowly-wow-wow!"
"Chick, stop it. I tell you, I won't have it!"
"I'll stop in a minute, Patty. Let me laugh a minute, or I'll explode.I say, Mrs. Fairfield, did you ever see anything like the lady's robe!I don't often notice costumes of the fair sex, but that was a hummerfrom Humville."
"Don't, Chick," said Nan, noticing Patty's quivering lip; "they'rePatty's friends, and I'd rather you wouldn't ridicule them."
"I'd rather not myself, honest, Mrs. Fairfield, I'd rather not, butwhat can you do when they come running up, begging to be ridiculed?"
"They didn't," declared Patty. "Nobody would have thought ofridiculing them, Chick, if you hadn't. They talked a lot of wisdomthat you couldn't assimilate, and you're envious of their superiorminds, that's what ails you."
"Patty, Patty," said her father, laughing outright at this, "my dearchild, are you really so infatuated with those people that you believewhat you're saying?"
"Of course, I am. I don't expect you to understand them, Father,you're older, and belong to another generation."
"Good gracious, Patty," cried Nan, gasping, "do you think your fatheris too old to understand that drivel?"
"I do," said Patty, calmly, "and you are too, Nan. It takes the modernviewpoint, the young soulsight to apprehend the beauty of vision, thevast--vast----"
"Horizon," suggested Chick, kindly.
"Yes, horizon," said Patty; "how did you know, Chick?"
"Oh, horizons are always vast. Deeps are vasty. Nothing much else isvast, except once in a while a distance. So I felt safe in chancingthe horizon."
"Oh, Chick, you are the funniest thing!" said Nan, who was shaking withlaughter at Patty's chagrin. "But," and her voice suddenly becameserious, "I won't stand for your nonsense. I range myself on Patty'sside. These people were our guests. I forbid any slighting allusionsto them. Their ways may not be our ways, but if they are Patty'sfriends they are my friends."
The warm, sincere ring of Nan's voice went to Patty's heart, and shesmiled again.
"Good for you, you old trump!" she exclaimed, looking gratefully atNan. "Now, Dad, you come over, and I can manage Chick, myself."
Patty was in gay good humour again, and she perched on the arm of herfather's chair, as she proceeded to win him over.
"You know I can't resist your blandishments, my angel child," he said,as Patty caressed his handsome iron-grey hair, "but I must admit yourCosmickers have no message for me."
"That's just it," cried Patty, triumphantly. "I knew it! They have nomessage for you, because you don't understand their language,you're--Dad, I hate to say it,--but, you're too old!"
And with a kiss on his frowning forehead, Patty ran to the piano, andbegan to play "Silver Threads Among the Gold," to a rag-timeimprovisation of her own.
"Oh, Pattibelle," cried Chick, "what would your vast-horizoned friendssay if they could hear you playing ragtime! I'm sure a lemon-colourednocturne or a flaming fugue would be nearer their idea of melody."
"Play us a fox-trot, Nan," said Patty, jumping up, and in anotherminute, as Nan obligingly acquiesced, Patty and Chick were dancinggaily up and down the room.
"Forgive me, Patty," said Chick, as they danced out into the hall, "Iwouldn't offend you or your friends for worlds, but they--well, theystruck me funny, you see."
"They're not funny, Chick. They're the real thing. You can't see it,I know, and neither can Dad or Nan, but I do."
"All right, Patty. Go into it if you like. I don't believe it willhurt you. And like the measles, the harder you have it, the sooneryou'll get over it, and you'll never have it but once. By the way,they invited me to their Christmas racket,--and I'm going!"
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