"did you see the haldens on the train, frad?" asked patricia as she and david were talking aside by the studio window while elinor was welcoming tom hughes and griffin, margaret howes and mr. spicer, who had all arrived in a bunch, tom having lagged behind to get a big sheaf of roses for elinor, whom he admired immensely.
"no, we looked for them high and low, but didn't see hide nor hair of them," he answered, ruffing his hair in a way that distressed patricia, who was very proud of his straight, shining locks.
"i wonder what keeps them?" she said anxiously. "they'd surely phone if they were detained or weren't coming. all of bruce's friends are here, and hannah ann is on pins and needles for fear we'll be delayed and not get through in time for the four-forty. she was awfully glad to see you, wasn't she?"
"yep," replied david, grinning. "i was afraid she'd regard me as an interloper in the family abode, but she gave me the glad hand in great shape. i didn't think it was in her to be so hearty. she's taken me in, all right."
"she had your room all fixed with the best covers, but elinor persuaded her to reconsider it," smiled patricia. "you're going to be as much at home as any of us, frad dear, and i'm glad the time will soon be here for your school to shut up and let you come h-o-m-e, home."
the clock on st. francis' tower boomed the hour.
"i think we'll have to begin with the feeding," said bruce, as miss jinny and mrs. shelly, gorgeous in their very best raiment, entered from their bedroom. "madam, may i have the privilege of escorting you to the head of the table?"
mrs. shelly made him a pretty little bow.
"i shall be delighted, mr. haydon," she said primly, to the great gratification of judith, who had previously arranged this incident.
elinor followed with mr. grantly, and miss jinny came next with mr. spicer, who was very ceremonial and splendid in new clothes of the latest pattern. patricia thought he looked particularly radiant, and wondered how he could be so glad to say good-bye. she was about to whisper to tom hughes, who was next in the merry jumble that followed the first three precise couples, when there was a tremendous rapping at the studio door, and hannah ann in her treasured new hat rushed from miss jinny's room, where she had been in ambush, to the besieged portal.
patricia, hannah ann, and the haldens met on the blue rug, and patricia was the first to find her voice.
"well, of all people in the world!" she cried delightedly to the newcomers. "where did you come from? why aren't you in paris? and where's mr. bingham?"
a tall, good-looking man in tweeds was shaking hands heartily with hannah ann, while an esthetically dressed, rather languid young lady in pastel green was trying to introduce a pretty, smiling blond girl in black furs whom patricia easily recognized as the original of the photograph that had stood on mr. lindley's desk at greycroft, and the haldens were explaining how they heard that the lindleys were in town and so had come in on an earlier train specially to capture them for the house-breaking.
patricia bubbled with enjoyment of the surprise. she kissed mrs. bingham and mrs. lindley, too, though she had never laid eyes on her before, and she came near kissing the tall mr. lindley, much to the edification of the others who had rushed from the sitting-room at the sound of the outcry.
griffin and other intimates were introduced to the late miss auborn and the professor, both of whom had starred as boarders in the past summer at greycroft when, at judith's suggestion, the three girls had tried to retrieve their broken fortunes by means of "paying guests."
"mr. bingham will be along presently," said the late miss auborn with great composure, arranging her draperies with a careful hand. she was looking remarkably smart and it was evident that the amiable mr. bingham had totally eclipsed art for her. "we only met the lindleys by chance and ferdinand had some business to transact that could not wait."
patricia studied her with eager interest. the bride of half a year was still a bride to her, and the transformation of the limp, bedraggled art student into this languid, elegant young lady was an affair that had its beginnings at greycroft, for it was under that hospitable roof that mr. bingham had first seen miss auborn. in the merry babel of the studio party mrs. bingham held her own with a calm assurance that miss auborn had not possessed, and when mr. bingham, pink and smiling as ever and just a bit more bald, joined them, the air of mild authority with which she welcomed that gentleman impressed patricia even more strongly.
as they went back to the flower-decked sitting-room, judith edged close to whisper in her ear.
"i think miss jinny has hurt her hand, miss pat," she said with exaggerated anxiety. "she's got her handkerchief wrapped about it. i hope it isn't badly hurt—she doesn't look as if it were inimical, does she?"
patricia made a gesture of amused impatience. "you monkey, you aren't thinking of miss jinny's hand at all. where did you get that stuffy word?"
"it isn't stuffy," defended judith with a flash. "it's a nice, crackling word, and i got it from arnold bennet, if you want to know. he uses it all the time. and i've got another, too—'inept'—and that's what you are now, patricia kendall. i'm ashamed of your extreme indifference to the beauties of your own language."
patricia halted by the chair at a side table where her name card lay. her eyes were fastened on judith with a peculiarly penetrating gaze, and her firm grasp detained the arm that would have escaped.
"judith, my child, there's something up, and you'd better confess at once," she said gravely. "no one will hear you now while we're getting our places. what is it you're plotting?"
judith wriggled from her with an expression of injured innocence that almost satisfied her.
"i'm not going to do anything, miss pat," she declared with emphasis. "you can ask bruce if i'm 'up to' anything, as you call it."
patricia reluctantly released her and she slipped away to her own table with madalon halden, tom hughes, and little jack grantly, a nephew of the sculptor, who had been invited specially for judith's sake, and who was promptly set down by that discriminating young person as being much too young for the high post of companion to her.
miriam halden, mr. hilton, griffin, margaret howes, herbert lester and david—officially known as francis edward, but particularly recognized by his twin as frad—all sat at the same rose-decked table with patricia, and, as griffin put it, they made the other tables look "like thirty cents in pennies." the candle light sparkled on laughing eyes and white teeth, and ripples of merriment enlivened every mouthful of the savory dishes that dufranne's dignified françois, aided by the radiant henry, served continuously.
patricia felt sorry for elinor and bruce that they should be marooned among the elder and more serious members of the party, but, as david pointed out to her in an answering whisper, they seemed uncommonly satisfied where they were and not at all in need of sympathy.
"we're going to see the decoration—the one elinor made for the church, you know," said patricia to miriam as they left the festive, disheveled sitting-room to the rejuvenating hands of hannah ann and henry, and went with the chatting crowd into the big studio again. "bruce wouldn't have the luncheon in here because we couldn't get a good view of it if the place was cluttered up with tables and things. he's fearfully proud of it. he says it's as good as lots of regular artists could do."
"she hasn't been studying long, has she?" asked miriam, with her eyes intent on the long blue curtain that screened the decoration from sight.
"just last summer with miss auborn and bruce, and then three months at the academy and with bruce again," replied patricia proudly. "bruce wouldn't let her stay at the academy all the time. he thinks it's best to work like the old masters used to, in the studio of some artist, doing things right away. he didn't want elinor's originality to get barnacles, he said."
bruce stepped to the space that had been with difficulty kept at the west side of the studio, and stood before them with his hand raised.
"we asked you today to help us break up housekeeping," he said with his winning smile; "but i must confess that i for one have deceived you. i planned to get you all here for a totally different purpose, and i trust you will approve of my craftiness when you have seen what i have to show you."
"sure we will," interposed tom hughes in an unexpectedly audible stage whisper, which greatly confused him, but delighted patricia and david.
"you all know," bruce went on, "that i have been trying an experiment of my favorite theory of art education, but very few of you know how it has progressed. and it is to show you the result that i have lured you here today—to crow over some of you, in fact. the canvas i am going to show you was designed, executed as far as it has gone, entirely by miss elinor kendall, a student of hardly more than nine months' study. the subject is the 'nativity' and it is designed for a chancel in a small church."
as the curtain was drawn from the long canvas patricia's eyes were on the faces of those in whose impressions she was most interested, and they gave her great satisfaction. mrs. bingham's eyes were wide and startled as those of the small hen who discovers that her ungainly child is really a white swan.
"she won't be patronizing elinor after this," thought patricia with a chuckle. "and mr. grantly has to swallow himself, too. he'll hate to have to eat humble pie to bruce after all his din against bruce's way of thinking. but they all like it, mr. lindley and the halls and mr. spicer, too. dear old norn, how proud i am of you!"
judith nudged her sharply. "miss jinny's got her hand unwrapped and it's a ring!" she hissed.
but patricia was too much absorbed to heed.
"hush!" she cautioned, slipping an absent hand into judith's quivering palm. "bruce is talking. oh, isn't he dear, to say nice things of each of us. it's like commencement time, ju, isn't it? all the good little girls get prizes, but i wish he wouldn't go back to that honorable mention of mine. i feel like an impostor."
"well, you needn't," expostulated judith sagely. "you got it, didn't you?"
"y—yes," responded patricia dubiously. "but i'll never be an artist. i sort of felt that long ago, but now i'm dead certain of it, and it seems like a sham to haul out that effort in the face of elinor's splendid work."
"i don't feel that way at all—" began judith, but their murmured comments halted at bruce's next words.
"and i am glad to tell you that the youngest of our promising students has also made good in her own department," he said, with a smile at the corner where judith reared her head with sudden pride.
"miss judith kent kendall has just had her first story accepted and printed in the girl's companion."
patricia gasped, and in the moment's silence that fell she gave the promising authoress a little shake.
"so that was what you were up to?" she said. "i knew you had something on your mind, judy kendall, you crafty, clever thing. how perfectly glorious to think you're really in print!"
judith pulled out of her embrace.
"don't make a show of me, miss pat," she commanded reproachfully. "it isn't correct to show that you are so delighted."
she turned to receive the congratulations that crowded on her, and patricia, with a gay little ripple of amusement, watched the slender childish figure straighten to its utmost height and assume an air of grave affability as judith responded to her ovation.
"that kid is a born actress," said david in her ear. "look at her, miss pat. isn't she the picture of an eminent authoress at a club reception?"
patricia smiled and opened her lips, but the words died away, as bruce, now with a gayety that bespoke a different sort of announcement, mounted the model stand in the middle of the room, and rapped loudly for attention. miss jinny had vainly tried to grab his sleeve as he slipped past her and now stood with an expression of grim martyrdom glaring at mr. spicer, who was smiling at her openly and, patricia thought, heartlessly.
"i have a postscript to add," smiled bruce. "sometimes, as you know, the postscript is of great importance."
he paused a moment till the silence was perfect and then he said, with a pretense of reading a notice from a sheet of paper:
"mrs. virginia p. shelly announces the engagement of her daughter virginia e. to mr. nathaniel spicer, late of the geological survey——"
he got no further. miss jinny, who had won first place in the interest of the art community as sinbad and kept it by her own wholesome goodness, was surrounded and overwhelmed. patricia was the first to seize her unwilling hand.
"now i shall see how an engaged couple behaves!" she cried triumphantly. "you shan't escape me, mind you, for i'm your very nearest friend, and i'll be your bridesmaid if you'll let me."
miss jinny came to herself with a chuckle. "my gracious, patricia kendall, what are you thinking of!" she exclaimed in growing amazement. "are you mad enough to imagine i'm going to behave like a lunatic, just because i'm taking a new name to myself? do behave or i'll never speak to you again!"
"that's the way to squelch her," laughed griffin, who was pumping the beaming mr. spicer's hand like mad. "she'd be a regular nuisance if you encouraged her. i'll warn bottle green——"
"what, you don't mean to say—" interrupted margaret howes. "i heard that jeffries took her to the vaudeville show and i thought that was a tremendous change of heart for nice old greenie."
"yep, she's engaged to jeffries," announced griffin with great enjoyment. "has elinor heard? let's go break the news."
patricia preceded them to the corner where elinor, rather pale and agitated, was holding back as bruce tried to lead her to the model stand. patricia thought that bruce's insistence had something to do with the decoration, which was half forgotten by most of the company, and she laid a detaining hand on elinor's other arm.
"what do you want to make a show of her for, bruce?" she remonstrated feelingly. "you can say all you have to say right here, can't you?"
then her breath caught in her throat and her heart gave a sudden flop, for, as elinor raised her left hand there was a flash and glitter of gems—a new splendid circle of diamonds scintillated on elinor's third finger.
"oh, norn," she gasped, dropping her hand and searching elinor's flushing face with questioning eyes. "you too?"
elinor nodded mutely and clasped patricia's two hands in her own. bruce took patricia's other hand in his strong, warm grasp and the three stood for a silent second as much apart from the gay, noisy scene as though a curtain had dropped between them.
"i'm awfully glad," said patricia, recovering herself first and beginning to realize the joyfulness of the astounding news. "let me tell them, will you?"
it was not until all the guests had gone, and david and his friends had taken their reluctant leave with fervid promises of speedy reunion at greycroft, and the packers had disappeared with the big canvas and the cartoons [transcriber's note: cartons?], and hannah ann and henry had reduced everything to a state of perfection that even the most critical symons in the world could not cavil at, and bruce had said his last farewells and was on the blue rug at the studio door with his hand on the knob to usher them out, that patricia found utterance for her seething thoughts.
"i may be a believer in votes for women," she said solemnly, clasping her vanity case so hard that she unconsciously shattered its clasp. "i may be a yellow suffragist, as judy calls me, but i must say, men can make things mighty comfortable for you."
there was a shout of amazed laughter, but patricia persisted:
"look at us last fall before we discovered david; look at us now; look at miss jinny; look at elinor's canvas—which she couldn't have dreamed of doing if miss auborn had been chaperoning her! i tell you, men have ways of doing things that hit the spot, and i think it's a shame they don't get the credit for it."
bruce cocked his head mischievously at her.
"are you going to promulgate that doctrine at the suffrage league?" he asked, beginning to turn the knob.
"yes, i am—if i ever go there," returned patricia with great spirit. "but i shan't have time for a long while. i'm going to raise chickens with miriam halden this summer, and i've got to start in right away with the plans for the houses and yards."
bruce flung the door wide.
"well, we're turning another page of our lives," he said with a backward glance at the rooms where they had been so busy and so happy. "who can say what will be written there?"
judith shrugged uneasily.
"that gives me the creeps," she remonstrated. "i don't like it. it sounds like funerals and ghosts——"
patricia broke in on her dismal forebodings with a rippling, silvery laugh.
"it sounds like wedding bells to me!" she cried, gayly. "you and i don't hear alike, ju. it sounds like wedding bells, and commencement essays, and checks for stories, and—and—and——"
"what, else?" demanded judith, whose color had been rising at the alluring forecast. patricia made a despairing little gesture. "i can't think of anything that will fit poor me," she confessed with mock dejection. "i'm so everlastingly commonplace that i don't sound at all."
"yes, you do, too!" cried judith ardently, flinging out a masterpiece. "you sound like a syncopated opera; doesn't she, bruce?"
patricia started as the grotesque words sank deep.
"you just wait till i try my real wings," she said with a queer little catch in her throat. "i've forgotten all about my dear music in these three riotous months, but i'll soon be ready to begin again."
"is your laurel wreath on good and tight, judy?" asked bruce with a twinkle. "i'm going to beg elinor to have hers tied on with nice little blue ribbons. miss pat is on the rampage for fame, and it isn't safe to take chances."
patricia underwent a swift change as she lifted her shining eyes to bruce's laughing face.
"pooh, i'm not a bit dangerous and you know it, bruce haydon," she said with returning gayety. "i'm the family grub, and judy and elinor are the splendid butterflies." she paused with a merry gurgle. "i'm going to raise chickens for these two glittering geniuses. greycroft shall be my field of conquest and the white plume that leads to victory will be an orpington. lead on!"
the door clicked behind them and they set their faces to the sunset, and greycroft, and home.
