Part 11 (1/2)

Patricia complied joyfully. ”Do you want to hear every sc.r.a.p, just as it happened,” she asked, ”from beginning to end?”

”From the very beginning to the very end,” nodded Rosamond.

”Well, then, I hustled over to the studio,” Patricia told her, ”and found them waiting for me. Elinor looked as sweet as ever and Bruce, of course, was just as he should be. We took the car to the hotel and just as we were going in, a violet-man pushed his tray right in front of me, and I must have looked at it pretty hard, for Bruce bought me the dearest duck of a bunch with cords and ta.s.sels on it. And, of course, that made me feel better still, for my suit isn't terribly gay, you know, having been selected when I was expecting to spend the whole winter in the country.”

”Was Elinor wearing her gray furs?” asked Rosamond with critical interest.

Patricia nodded. ”And her amethyst velvet,” she said, with appreciation of her friend's fondness for such matters. ”She has the sweetest hat to go with it, too, and she looked lovelier than anyone there. Norn is the dearest thing, and I believe she's so pretty because she's so good.”

This digression was not received with any show of enthusiasm, so she hurried on.

”We went into the lobby--it's a stunning place. Awfully select and quiet, you know. And after sending up our names the page took us to her rooms, and we had to wait a moment in an outer room while the maid announced us; then we went right in, and there was Madame Milano, in the midst of a lot of chatting people, looking just as sociable and everyday as you please. She came straight over to us and shook hands as tight as Constance does, and then she introduced us to all the people there. Oh, Rosamond, I was never so excited in my life!”

”Was it the musical set, or social?” asked Rosamond.

Patricia looked puzzled. ”They seemed like both to me,” she confessed.

”They were beautifully dressed and they had lovely manners, and some of them were singers and others seemed to be just society people, from the way they talked about things. Madame Garti was there, and Sculke, the baritone, and Mrs. Winderly--she was perfectly lovely----”

”Social climber,” Rosamond ticketed her with a calm that made Patricia wince.

”And there was a plain girl with a gorgeous hat, whom Madame called Felice--I didn't catch her other name, but I liked her immensely.”

Rosamond sat up and bent forward. ”Felice Vanding?” she asked, and at Patricia's rather uncertain nod, she said decisively, ”That is the most exclusive girl in New York. Was her mother there?”

Patricia searched her memory. ”Is she sort of stiff and dried-up?” she hazarded. ”With a big nose?”

”That is Mrs. Vanding!” cried Rosamond with more animation than Patricia had known her to show. ”Milano must be quite the proper thing, or the Vandings would never take her up. Tell me some more about her.”

Patricia felt rather disconcerted. This was not the point of view she could sympathize with. She went on less gayly.

”Madame Milano was very kind. She asked all about my lessons, and said she was going to ask Tancredi to lunch with her tomorrow to find out how I had been s.h.i.+rking. She asked about Artemis Lodge, too, and how I like the life here. I told her how jolly it was, and I told her, too, how dear you'd been to me.”

”Did you indeed?” said Rosamond with a pleased look. ”Was she at all interested?”

”I should say she was!” cried Patricia, glad to recall the tone and look. ”She smiled and said in the nicest possible way, 'I should like to meet your friend, Miss Pat. It is rare to find such good comrades.h.i.+p among rivals.' I told her that we weren't rivals, that we couldn't possibly be, for you had a wonderful voice and were far, far more gifted than plain me.”

”What did she say at that?” demanded the now eager Rosamond, forgetting to contradict this generous statement.

”She laughed and pinched my cheek,” Patricia had to confess shamefacedly. ”And she said something about violets and I thought she meant my bunch, so I took it off and offered it to her, feeling so glad I had the chance to give her even that tiny gift. She took it and pinned it on her, and told me to be a good child. It was rather puzzling, though, for the other people laughed and I was sure I'd made a mistake of some sort. I felt horridly uncomfortable.”

”Didn't your sister know what she meant?” inquired Rosamond, sinking back into her cus.h.i.+ons again.

”No, Elinor and Bruce were both over at the other side of the room, talking to Madame Alda, who had just come in. To tell the truth, I didn't say anything to them about it,” Patricia said. ”It wasn't much, anyway, for in a little while I was introduced to Felice and we had a good time together behind the palms while the music was going on. She knows lots about music, and I learned a good many things from her.”

Rosamond approved. ”She's worth cultivating,” she declared warmly, her long eyes brightening. ”But tell me, Miss Pat, was that all that Milano said? Did she know I'd been with Pancri in Rome and Martona in Paris?

Did she say that Tancredi had spoken of me?”

”I told her every last thing I could possibly think of that would make her realize I had a good angel to watch over me,” laughed Patricia.

”But, of course, we couldn't keep on talking all the afternoon. There were a good many other people who wanted a word with her.”