"Now to wind up this jolly day, Pat--I'll treat," Angeline said, edging toward a chocolate shop.
As they sat down at one of the little tables Pat saw across the room Garrett and Peggy Lee and Keineth Randolph. Her first thought was to join them but something in their faces stopped her. In that moment's exchange of glances, though the girls had nodded pleasantly enough, Pat read surprise, disgust, and outright amusement!
A deep crimson dyed her face, in funny contrast to the powdery whiteness of her nose. Trying to assume an indifferent air she turned her back on the others and devoted herself to Angeline; her pride and satisfaction had fled, though, leaving her deeply hurt, not so much because of the girls' suppressed ridicule as by the thought that they had not invited her and Angeline to join them.
Then Garrett added the last drop to her humiliation! As they trooped out, giving a passing smile to Pat and her guest, Garrett slyly poked Pat in the back and, leaning over, whispered: "Where'd you lose your ears, Miss Everett?" Involuntarily Pat clapped her hands to the curly puffs that were pinned carefully over her ears and threw Garrett a wrathful look!
But her adventure was ending most dismally! Reaching home she threw her boxes and bags and the book on her bed and fiercely shook out the miserable hairpins! For ten minutes she brushed the offending curls and then braided them into a tight pigtail. If Aunt Pen noticed the work of Madame Ranier's young woman, or the daub of powder still decorating the bridge of Pat's nose, she said nothing; neither did she question Pat concerning her absence at luncheon. She and Renée were in high good humor, they had had a happy afternoon and Renée was herself again.
"Pat, dear, don't you think--Renée is all better now--we might have some sort of a party in honor of Angeline?"
Angeline's expressive face brightened. She was always prettily agreeable when with the family. She clapped her hands to express her delight.
"Let's have a dinner dance," she cried; then--"oh, how dreadful of me to speak right out--like that!" and she affected deep embarrassment.
"I had in mind a picnic at Hill-top on Saturday. The roads are open and we can all motor out, have lunch and then go to the sugar camp. The sap is running well, Mrs. Lee says."
Aunt Pen kept her eyes on her knitting and did not see the blank look of astonishment that crossed Angeline's face. Pat had exclaimed eagerly over the suggestion: