Part 10 (1/2)

Elinor sighed over this change in the sunny Patricia, but only said with a regretful glance at the discontented droop of her sister's golden head:

”Judith's fancies are sometimes short-lived, my dear. I shouldn't notice this one if I were you.” And then to make a diversion she asked how the lessons were coming on.

Patricia brightened at once. ”I believe I'm doing pretty well,” she said hopefully. ”Madame hardly says a word to me now, but she nods her head a good deal. And she's letting me take some new exercises already.”

”That looks promising,” began Elinor, pleased to have turned the current toward happier channels. ”That is the best news----”

Here the door opened and Bruce, who had been out, came in. ”Hullo, all alone?” he said, with some surprise. ”I thought Constance Fellows was coming tonight. What's up? She's not ill, is she? There's a lot of grippe going about just now, I hear.”

Elinor explained that so far as they knew Constance was not affected by the impending epidemic. ”Miss Pat forgot to ask her in time,” she said.

”And so she made an engagement with one of the girls, that is all, Bruce. Are you going to make the salad in here? Judith has it all ready for you.”

”Just as soon as I shed my skin,” returned Bruce gayly, throwing his great-coat on the divan, with his hat and gloves. ”I tell you, it's fine weather--this. The stars are snapping and the moon-crescent is like silver. It makes one glad to be alive.”

Patricia, with her disquiet mood still hovering about her, came over to the table to watch him begin operations. She always liked to see Bruce mix the dressing and make the salad, and tonight his strong cheerfulness seemed particularly good to her.

”I'm sorry I forgot about Constance, Bruce,” she said, as he uncorked the oil bottle. ”I had two concerts with Rosamond and the music was so perfectly heavenly that I didn't get back to earth until it was too late to get her for tonight. I'll bring her over next week.”

”Right-o,” said Bruce genially. ”We're all strong for Constance, you know. Besides being a paint slinger of promise, she's the straight goods. See as much of her as you can, little sister, for she's the sort that true friends are made of.”

Patricia really liked Constance immensely and had it not been for the overshadowing Rosamond, would have chosen her for the close intimacy for which Constance had shown she was quite ready and willing. But she had a feeling that in so praising Constance, Bruce was neglecting Rosamond, and she said rather petulantly:

”I can't be always looking her up, Bruce. You know she's busy and out of the house most of the time. It would be different if she were studying with Tancredi like Rosamond.”

Bruce opened his eyes at this unusual peevishness on Patricia's part, but he went on mixing his ingredients without comment, while Elinor, who had been bringing in the rest of the picnic supper, flitted about, straightening the room preparatory to lighting the candles for the feast.

As she picked up Bruce's overcoat from the divan, some letters fell out of the pockets, scattering over the floor. She stooped to collect them, and gave an exclamation of surprise.

”Bruce Hayden, when did these come?” she asked, sorting the letters rapidly into little piles on the table at his elbow.

Bruce regarded the envelopes with undisguised astonishment, and then he broke into a guilty grin.

”Oh, thunder, I must have forgotten them!” he cried. ”How in creation did you unearth them?”

Elinor explained, while Patricia eagerly seized on one addressed to her in Bruce's care and began to tear it open.

”It's from Madame Milano!” she cried excitedly. ”Oh, Elinor, she's inviting me to her afternoon reception today, and it's hours and hours too late.”

Bruce looked crestfallen. ”But is Milano in town?” he argued. ”She isn't singing till Tuesday night, you know----”

Patricia thrust the sheet before him. ”See for yourself,” she said. ”It says the seventeenth, doesn't it? Look, Elinor, what a big sprawling hand she writes.”

Bruce shook his head dolefully over the clearly written date. ”It's today, all right,” he admitted ruefully. ”You've lost a jolly fine chance of seeing opera folk at home, thanks to my block-headedness.”

Judith joined the group, and when she heard of Patricia's misfortune she put a consoling arm about her sister. ”Never mind, Miss Pat dear,” she said. ”Perhaps when Madame Milano knows how bad you feel about missing her reception she'll do something that's a lot nicer for you.”

Bruce chuckled and his face cleared. ”Wait a minute,” he said hastily, and disappeared into the other room.