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Updated: June 5, 2025
Towards the middle of July the girls at The Priory began to look forward with eager anticipation to the annual picnic. In the minds of most it was the great event of the summer term, and eclipsed even Speech Day. Patty, who had not yet experienced the joys of such an excursion, was anxious to learn something about it, and made many enquiries of her friends. "It's the loveliest fun," said Avis.
It sways a bit, but it's firmly anchored. I looked out for that, before I trusted you to this ramshackle old hay wagon!" Patty smiled back, really helped by his hearty sympathy and strong, ringing voice. "I HATE to be so, so unable to stand things!" she exclaimed, pouting a little. "You're no Sandow girl," he replied; "but one can't expect an apple blossom to be as strong as a a cabbage!"
For a minute or two before replying he studied her closely. "I wish you would let your hair grow out, Patty," he remarked at the end of his examination, and there was a note of genuine feeling in his bantering. "I remember how pretty you used to look as a little girl, with your hair flying behind you like the mane of a pony." "Let my hair alone. Do you know where my aunt is?"
Be generous if you can, but at any rate, be just. That's all I ask. And you can't be just if you act on impulse, so, go slow. Will you?" "Yes, Mona, there's my hand on it We're not often over-impulsive, Patty and I, but in this case we may be, might have been, if you hadn't warned me. You're a good girl, Mona, and I thank you for your foresight and real kindness,"
Eve came alone. "And where's Patty?" he asked, grasping her hand heartily in return for the smile of unfeigned pleasure with which she welcomed him. "Ah, where indeed? Getting near to Charing Cross by now, I think." "She has gone back?" "Went this very morning, before I had your card let us get out of the way of people. She has been dreadfully home-sick.
Gertrude Carleton, the eldest daughter, was one of those spick-and-span beings who look as if they ought always to be kept in a bandbox. She had a languishing die-away sort of air, and after a few moments' conversation with her, Bumble excused herself and slyly nudged Patty to come outside with her.
"Your way is always better than mine." "But suppose you two quarrel," said Mr. Fairfield, "what can you do then? Patty will have nowhere to go." "Oh, we won't quarrel," said Mona, confidently. "Patty's too sweet-tempered, " "And you're too amiable," supplemented Nan, who was fond of Mona in some ways, though not in others.
Human nature, having found its speech, must have something to talk about; that which it has neither seen nor heard, it invents. Who had written that letter to Patty? Some woman; man had not yet acquired such finished cruelty. He could not understand its purpose, well as he understood women. Who could possibly hate Patty, honest and loyal as the day is long?
I hope so with all my heart; but, oh, my dear, try not to care too much. It never does any good to care too much." She stooped and kissed the girl's cheek. "There, my car is at the door, and I must hurry back to the shop. I'll do anything in the world that I can for you, Patty, anything in the world."
"No," Herbert said promptly. "I ought to be the one to ask Patty." "Why ought you?" Henry demanded. "Why ought you?" "Listen!" Patty cried, "I know the way we'll do. I'll ask each of you a question we haf to whisper it and each one of you'll ask me one, and then we'll write it. That'll be simply grand!" She clapped her hands; then checked herself. "Oh, I guess we can't either.
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