Miss Pat at Artemis Lodge | Page 6

date with
us fellows over a week ago and we've been tracking him in vain for
nearly an hour. He never peeped a note about having the dinner here. I
thought it was to be at the Ritz and we've been hanging about there for
a dog's age. What do you think of it?"
Patricia broke in before Bruce or Elinor could reply. "Don't waste time
mourning over the dark past, Ted Kendall," she said severely. "Come
sit down here between Margaret Howes and me, and let Margaret see
how nicely you can behave since you've grown up enough to have
evening clothes. She hasn't seen you since you were a little boy at
Elinor's wedding, you know."
There was a laugh at this, as the ceremony mentioned had taken place
in a June not so very long ago, and while Bruce tried hard to trump up
excuses for having forgotten to telephone to his young brother-in-law,
the two boys settled themselves at the table at the hastily arranged
places provided for them, and the dinner began amidst great gayety.
When the fish had been disposed of Ted leaned forward to catch
Elinor's eye. "Have you broken the news to the future prima donna?" he
asked with interest. "I saw Merton today--you know his sister is living
at Venusburg now--and he said it was a dandy place. Receptions every
week. Tea-room on the premises. Art mongers and singers and a few
chaperones that know their business----"
Patricia broke in with puzzled wonder: "What are you talking about,
Ted?" she demanded. "What has Elinor to do with tea-rooms and the
like?"
Ted looked surprised in his turn. "Haven't they told you yet?" he
inquired doubtfully. "Perhaps I oughtn't to have----"
Elinor hastened to reassure him. "It's all right, Ted dear," she said. "We
hadn't told Miss Pat because we thought she mightn't like it and we
wanted her to have this one evening without a flaw. But she has to
know tomorrow, so she may as well hear it now."

Patricia's heart sank as Elinor turned to her, and her first words were
not encouraging.
"I know how you love to be with us all," she said, hesitating for the best
words, "but Madame Milano has written that she wants you to agree
absolutely to her suggestions as to your studies and----"
Patricia flushed suddenly. "Well, if it means that I have to go away all
by myself and never have any real family times, like we've just begun
to have after all these years," she declared hotly, "I simply won't do it,
no matter what comes of it."
There was a little pause in the animated talk at the other end of the table
where Bruce and Marian Todd were discussing architecture with Tom
Hughes, and Bruce bent an anxious glance at his rebellious
sister-in-law.
"Humph, listen to that, will you?" said Ted, appealing to Margaret.
"She isn't a bit grateful--not she. She turns down a real thorough-going
opera singer without a spasm. Time was when she groveled--fairly
groveled--at Milano's lightest suggestion. At Leeuwarden, for
instance----"
Patricia had caught the look in Bruce's eye and she flung her petulance
from her with her usual energy.
"Never mind preaching any more, St. Francis-Edward-David
Carson-Kendall, I'll be good," she said lightly. "Tell me the worst,
Elinor, so that I may have it over. I always did think I'd like to expire
among lights and flowers."
It was an effort to put her own feelings to one side, but she had her
reward in Bruce's look and in Elinor's sigh of relief, and she instantly
determined to put up with whatever Milano decreed with as joyful a
spirit as she could summon.
"It really isn't so very dreadful. Many girls would love it," explained
Elinor. "You are to study with Madame Milano's friend, Madame

Tancredi, and to live at the new students' club, Artemis Lodge----"
"I thought Ted called it something else," began Patricia puzzled.
Ted laughed. "That's the name the fellows have for it," he explained in
a hasty aside.
Elinor went gently on with the rules. "And you are to come home on
Sunday evenings," she said brightly, "and to be very particular about
your diet and physical exercises. I think that's all."
Patricia, in spite or her good resolves, could not repress a sigh at the
program which was so very different from that she had planned for
herself. Afternoons at the studio, morning chats with Elinor, music
lessons for the aspiring Marty, who was to be put to school as soon as
she came from Rockham, and a host of other idle, pleasant doings had
been in her catalogue.
"I suppose it will be very nice," she said in a half-hearted manner that
showed her feelings as clearly as any words