"But my father----"
"Mr. Everett is dining out."
"Well, I never!" Pat threw down her book crossly. Drawing herself to her full height, she stalked down the length of the room on into the dining-room, where, at the end of the long table, alight with the sparkle of silver, glass and china, one lonely place had been set.
She wanted very much to throw a plate at Jasper who was biting his lip to keep from laughing at her aggrieved air. Instead she tossed her head higher and, in her haughtiest manner, ordered:
"Jasper, will you see at once what Melodia has made for dessert and, whatever it is, tell her that I want two extra big helpings!"
"So there!" she muttered to his retreating back and felt much better!
Pat had really had a very bad afternoon. She had not liked one bit having Renée rush away in the midst of all their fun fixing their costumes! She had helped Renée and Renée had left her to fix her own. She had felt decidedly aggrieved. Of course she was sorry for the sick old lady, but didn't Renée love her more than anyone else? Or didn't she?
When a little girl begins to ponder in such a fashion she can soon work herself into a sad state of blues. That was what Pat did! So that when Aunt Pen returned with a feather duster made of the biggest, brightest feathers that had ever grown to grace a young Indian princess, Pat didn't care whether or not she even went to Keineth's party!
Then the climax of her unhappiness was reached after Mrs. Lee rushed in with the story of the locket and the key. Aunt Pen and Pat had listened with eyes wide with astonishment.
"Oh, it's just like a fairy story!" Pat had cried.