Patty—Bride. Wells Carolyn

hearts are happiest.’”

      “Little Billee, you do quote the beautifullest poetry! Where do you pick it all up?”

      “Oh, I’ve a store of it somewhere in the top of my head. And I mean no disparagement of your enthusiasm, Patty, but you can’t do hard work, and so – ”

      “And so I must knit and knit and knit, I s’pose! Billee, dear, when you go to Washington why can’t I go too, and work in the Canteen Department?”

      Farnsworth smiled at her. “Do you know what the Canteen Department is?”

      “Not exactly; but Louise Dempster has gone to it, – ”

      “Oh, it’s the Commissariat Department, but it’s no place for you – ”

      “Why?”

      “There, there, don’t snap my head off! Only because you’re not robust enough for the work. If you’re going in for real help, there’s always the hospital or ambulance work.”

      “I – I couldn’t, Billee! I – I’d faint, I know! Oh, dear, I’m no good, and never was and never will be!”

      “Not so very much good to your Uncle Samuel I admit,” and Farnsworth grinned at her, “but a whole heap of good to one of his humble citizens.”

      “Which one?”

      “This one!” and Bill grabbed her in his arms.

      “Drop me,” Patty murmured, half smothered in his shoulder, “somebody’s coming!”

      “Let ’em!” But he set her down and began to speak seriously. “You do all you can for the Red Cross, dear, and that will be your share. Now, don’t worry over it, or think you ought to get into the game in any other way. You can’t do it, but you can and do accomplish a whole lot, – besides your knitting. Blossom Girl, remember I’m in this world, as well as the rest of the U. S. A. and you’ll give me of your love and fealty and – ,”

      “Do you think I will, Sweet William?”

      Patty’s very soul looked out of her earnest eyes, and Farnsworth kissed her reverently, “I know you will, darling. Now, you’ve helped me a lot already by your cheery and pleasant attitude about my going away – ”

      “But I don’t know all about it yet.”

      “I don’t know much myself. I’ll have further instructions soon – ”

      “And a uniform?”

      “Of course. I’ll rank as a Captain, and – ”

      “Oh, Captain Bill! How I will love you then! Come in the other room, I must tell of it! Nan, Billee’s going to have a uniform!”

      “Heavenly!” cried Helen Barlow. “Oh, I adore uniforms! And Mr. Farnsworth will be stunning in one!”

      “You may call him Bill, if you like,” said Patty, in the generosity of her enthusiasm.

      “All right,” said Helen, “but I don’t think it suits him. William is much more dignified.”

      “Make it William, then,” and Farnsworth smiled at the saucy-faced girl.

      “Captain Farnsworth is the best,” said Elise. “The title becomes you, Bill, and I know the uniform will.”

      “I’m going to have a uniform too,” said Van Reypen, “won’t it become me?”

      “Me, too,” chimed in Channing. “I’m expecting to be ordered to France any minute.”

      “Why, Chickering Channing! I didn’t know that,” cried Patty. “What are you?”

      “I’m an Officier de liaison.”

      “What in the world is that?”

      “It’s really nothing but an interpreter. But the French term is so much more impressive.”

      “Indeed it is. What do you interpret?”

      “Words otherwise unintelligible.”

      “But I don’t understand – ”

      “Then I’ll be pleased to interpret for you. You see, if a French soldier wants to confide a state secret to an English-speaking comrade, and if he doesn’t know a word of English, nor the other chap any French, – what’s to be did?”

      “Oh, I see!” cried Helen, “they call you in!”

      “Exactly, Miss Barlow. And being conversant with and fluent in all known tongues, – I’m just a walking Tower of Babel.”

      “A walking dictionary, you mean,” laughed Helen. “I think that’s a pretty fine position you hold. I never heard of it before. What’s your rank?”

      “Lieutenant, – very much at your service, Mademoiselle. Shortly, I shall don my khaki, and then I hope, at last, I’ll be respected by my fellow men.”

      “That’s so, Chick,” said Patty, mercilessly, “you’ve always been such a cutup – well, of course, you were respected, – but nobody really stood in awe of you. But a Lieutenant, – oh, I’m proud of my friends!”

      “Isn’t it glorious!” cried Helen, and she flew to the piano and began playing patriotic airs. They all joined and a brave chorus of young voices rang out the avowal that the Yanks were coming over there!

      So enthusiastically did Helen pound the keys that her hair shook loose from its pins and came tumbling round her shoulders.

      “Now, now, Bumble,” remonstrated Patty, “don’t do so, – it isn’t done! Here, I’ll fix it for you.”

      But Helen only laughed, and nimbly twisted up her tousled locks, and thrust hairpins in to hold them in a hard and unbecoming knot at the back of her head.

      “It doesn’t look a bit nice,” Elise warned her. “Better let Patty rearrange it.”

      “Nope, I don’t care,” and the wilful girl kept on playing and laughed as she shook her head. The shaking sent her hair down again, and this time Patty determinedly went to her and dressed it for her.

      “Sit still, you naughty!” she said, herself shaking with laughter. “Oh, Bumble, you haven’t grown up a bit!”

      Patty did up her cousin’s hair prettily and skewered it firmly into place with many hairpins, and it didn’t come down again.

      “And are you going down to Washington, too, Chick?” Daisy Dow asked.

      “Sooner or later, yes. That’s the road to all war glory.”

      “And you don’t know when?”

      “You nor I nor nobody knows. You see, Daisy, in war affairs nobody knows anything and if they do they’re not allowed to tell it.”

      “But just among us, – we wouldn’t tell anybody.”

      “The walls have ears,” said Chick, mock-dramatically.

      “And Rumour has a thousand tongues,” added Farnsworth, “it’s a dangerous combination.”

      A week later the two went to Washington. Sent for nearly at the same time, Farnsworth and Channing were to go to Washington, though their work there was widely different.

      The night before their departure, there was a gathering of the clan at Patty’s home.

      Farnsworth begged her not to have others there on their last evening together, but Patty’s wise little head thought it better to have a party.

      “You see,” she said to Nan, “if I spend the evening alone with my Billee Boy, he’ll be so sad and blue, and I’ll be so weepy and red, – we’ll have an awful time! It’s a whole lot better to have the crowd here and let him go off in a blaze of glory! Patriotism is good for homesickness.”

      And, too, Patty was trying to entertain Helen pleasantly, and so she made many little parties for her.

      The