CHAPTER XVII

PATTY'S DECISION

"You see, Nan, it isn't fair. I don't feel honest to keep Phil in uncertainty, when I don't think--no, I really _don't_ think I'm going to marry him."

"But good gracious, Patty, you ought to know by this time! Either you care for him or you don't."

"Nan, I've only learned of late that when people say 'care for' they mean love. I think it's a silly phrase,--why, I care for lots of things----"

"There are a good many things you've only learned of late, Patty, and a good many more you've still to learn. But I really think you ought to make up your mind about Phil Van Reypen."

"Well, amn't I making it up as fast as I can? I'm going right at it now, in dead earnest, and you've got to help me."

Nan smiled at the anxious face that looked into her own.

They were in Patty's boudoir, the morning after the Christmas party. A breakfast tray, with contents only partly demolished, was pushed away, as the importance of the discussion made food seem an intrusive factor.

Patty's cap was askew on her hastily knotted-up curls, and she gathered about her the voluminous folds of a billowy, blue silk affair, that was her latest acquisition in the way of negligees.

"My child," said Nan, "you have given yourself away. If you want any help in making up your mind, you are not in love with that young man.

You don't 'care for' him, in the technical sense of the term."

"But he's very nice, Nancy. He's a big-hearted, fine-minded----"

"Upstanding, clean-cut American gentleman. Let me help you out. Yes, Patty, he's all those things and more. But if you don't love him you mustn't marry him. You're old enough to know your own mind."

"I'm not such an ancient!"

"Don't be silly! You're nearly twenty-one----"

"Just twenty and a half."

"Well, all right, twenty and a half. But that's not like seventeen.

You're young for your years, I think. But anyway, you've seen enough of men to know if Phil Van Reypen is 'Lord of your life,--your King,--your Star!' Is he?"

"Not much he isn't! Why, Nan, he's an awfully nice chap, but no 'Philip, My King!' There, you see I can quote poetry as well as you.

Oh, Nan, Bill Farnsworth knows an awful lot about poetry! Would you think he would?"

"Now, Patty, keep to the subject in hand. Fred and I both think you ought to be engaged to Philip, or else tell him you won't be. It isn't fair to him, to act as you do."

"I know it, you angel stepmother, and so, I'm going to decide, right now,--with much quickness. Heigho! Which shall it be? Patty Van Reypen,--or stay an old maid all my life."

"Oh, I dare say there are others. You may possibly have another chance at matrimony."

"Nan," and Patty turned suddenly grave, "I don't like that--a chance at matrimony. I mean, if one gets engaged, it ought to be to a man she loves so much that she doesn't think of it as a 'chance.' It ought to be the one and only."

"Why, that's just what I'm trying to say, dear. Now, is Phil the one and only?"

"No, ma'am. Not by no manner of means, he isn't. Nixie, he is not!"

"That ma.s.s of negatives sounds rather conclusive to me. So, with that as a premise, I'm going to advise you, even urge you to tell him so with unmistakable definiteness."

"But, Nan, it makes him feel so bad."

"That is the trouble, Patty. Every true woman hates to disappoint the man who truly loves her. And Phil adores you. His love is deep and sincere. He would make you very happy--if you loved him. If not, it would only mean unhappiness for you both. And, so, it is really kinder to him to tell him so frankly and let him give up any false hopes."

"I know it, and I'm going to do it. But I don't know just how. You see, Nan, he is so persistent,--and in such a nice, kind way. When I tell him that, he'll only say that he won't consider it final, and we'll wait and see. Then the argument begins all over again."

"And so, I tell you, at the risk of repeating myself, that you must make up your own mind positively first; then, if an adverse decision, you must tell him, so positively that he can't misunderstand. _Then_, if he refuses to give up all hope, it isn't your fault."

"That's good, sound talk, Nan, and I will try to do just as you say.

But--well, here's the thing in a nutsh.e.l.l. I like Phil so much that I hate to tell him I can't love him."

"Then get that out of the nutsh.e.l.l, and put this in. If you like him so much, it's your duty to tell him you can't love him. Heavens, Patty, have you no idea of other people's rights?"

"I don't believe I have, Nan. I'm a spoiled child, I admit it. You and Dad spoil me, and all my friends do, too. I'm made to believe that the sun rises and sets in silly little Patty Fairfield, and it has made me a vain, conceited, selfish, insufferable _Pig_! That's what it has done!"

"Oh, Patty, you little idiot! Nothing of the sort. You're,--since you doubtless meant to be contradicted,--you're a dear thing, and there isn't a selfish bone in your body. If people adore you, it's because of your sunny, sweet nature, and your absolute thoughtfulness and kindness to others. Don't be foolish _that_ way. But regarding this matter of Philip, I know you see it as I do. And it's really your kind heart and your dislike of hurting anybody's feelings that makes you hate so to tell him what you must tell him."

"Yes, Nan, I must tell him. I know it myself. I know that I like him lots, and I'd be awfully sorry not to be friends with him, but I don't want to marry him."

"Do you want to marry anybody else?"

"I hardly know how to answer that. I suppose every girl would rather be married than not, if it's to just the right man. But one thing is certain, Philip isn't the right man."

Patty sighed, and the far-away look in her eyes made Nan wonder if there was a "right man" whose image was enshrined in the girl's heart.

But she only said, "Then, dear, tell him so."

"I will," said Patty, but she looked very serious and troubled over it.

However, she did tell him so. When Van Reypen called that evening Patty answered his plea with a decisive No. She was very gentle and kindly, but she gave him no ray of hope, no suggestion of a change of decision.

Philip took it gravely, but was unwilling to admit it was final. He knew from Patty's demeanour that she meant it to be, but he hoped he could yet win her by further devotion and patience. She told him this was impossible, but he only smiled and expressed his determination to try it.

"I take your word for it, dear," he said. "I know you mean just what you say, that you don't love me enough to give yourself to me. And I won't urge you, or tease you. Just let me remain your friend, and let me see you, occasionally. I promise not to intrude when I'm not wanted. And though I expect nothing, there's no law against hoping, you know."

Phil's winsome smile was so cheery and yet so wistful, that Patty's heart was touched anew. But she said, "It must be just friends, Phil.

I like you lots, you know that, but I can't be always fearful that----"

"That I'll break loose and become unmanageable! You needn't, dear. I promise to abide by your decision, unless I can make you want to change it. Now, forget it all, for the present, and let's be friends and chums and comrades and all those nice things, that don't bother curly-headed little girls and make them look troubled and sad. But, I want to thank you and bless you, dear, for your sweet kindliness to me.

Why, you might have sent me flying about my business with nothing more than a curt No. I'm glad you didn't do that!"

"I don't treat my friends like that," and Patty smiled, relieved that the ordeal was practically over. "Now, will you help us with the House Sale?"

"In a _minute_! But tell me what house is to be sold?"

"Oh, no, we don't sell any house. It's really a sort of Bazaar, but instead of holding it in a hall or any big place, we have it in a house,--this house, in fact."

"Here?"