Patty Blossom | Page 6

be too desperately inharmonious.
Mona was in white, declaring that that could offend nobody. Elise wore pale yellow, for the same logical reason. Patty had on a gown of soft chiffon, of old-gold colour, which, she said, was the nearest to saffron she had ever had or ever hoped to have.
"I don't like the word saffron," she declared; "somehow it makes me think of camomile tea."
"Naturally," said Roger; "I believe they're both yarbs. Blaney might call this affair a Saffron Tea, and have done with it."
But the gown was most becoming to Patty. The dull old-gold tints sets off her fair skin, and her bright gold hair, piled high, was topped with a gold and amber comb. Round her throat was an old-fashioned necklace of topazes, lent her by Mrs. Farrington. Altogether, she looked, Philip declared, positively Burne-Jonesey, and he called her the Blessed Damosel.
When at last they entered the Studio of the Blaney brother and sister, Patty blinked several times, before she could collect her senses. It was very dimly lighted, and a strange, almost stifling sense of oppression came over her. This was caused by the burning of various incense sticks and pastilles which gave out a sweet, spicy odour, and which made a slight haze of smoke. Becoming a little accustomed to the gloom, Patty discerned her host, amazingly garbed in an Oriental burnoose and a voluminous silk turban. He took her hand, made a deep salaam, and kissed her finger-tips with exaggerated ceremony.
"My sister, Alla," he said, "Miss Fairfield."
Patty looked up to see a tall, gaunt woman smiling at her. Miss Blaney, like her brother, was long, lanky and loose-jointed, and seemed to desire to accentuate these effects. Her ash-coloured hair was parted and drawn loosely down to a huge knot at the back of her neck. A band of gilt filigree was round her head at the temples, and was set with a huge green stone which rested in the middle of her forehead. Long barbaric earrings dangled and shook with every movement of her head, and round her somewhat scrawny neck was coiled an ugly greenish serpent of some flexible metal formation. For the rest, Miss Blaney wore a flowing robe of saffron yellow, a most sickly shade, and the material was frayed and worn as if it had been many times made over. It hung from her shoulders in billowy folds, and the wearer was evidently proud of it, for she continually switched its draperies about and gazed admiringly at them.
"Frightfully glad to see you," this weird creature was saying, and Patty caught her breath, and murmured, "Oh, thank you. So kind of you to ask me."
"I feel sure I shall adore you," Miss Blaney went on; "you are simpatica,--yes, absolutely simpatica."
"Am I?" and Patty smiled. "And is it nice to be simpatica? It doesn't mean a simpleton, does it?"
"Oh, how droll! My dear, how droll!" and Miss Blaney went off in contortions of silent laughter. "Just for that, you must call me Alla. I always want droll people to call me by my first name. And your name is----"
"Patty."
"Impossible! You can't be named that! Incredible! Ooh!"
Alla ended with a half-breathed shriek.
"Oh, well," said Patty, hastily, "my name is really Patricia, though no one ever calls me that."
"I shall call you that. Patricia! Perfect! You couldn't have been better dubbed. No, not possibly better dubbed. Patricia, ah, Patricia!"
Patty edged away a little. She began to think her hostess was crazy. But Alla went on:
"And my brother, Patricia, do you not adore him?"
"Well, you see, I've only seen him a few times. I can't quite agree that I adore him, yet."
"But you will. As soon as you have heard his poems, you will put him on a pedestal, yes, on a high pedestal. And tonight you will hear him read his wonderful lines. What a treat you have in store!"
And then new arrivals claimed Miss Blaney's attention, and Patty turned aside. She found Philip waiting for her, his eyes dancing with amusement.
"What is it all?" he whispered; "a bear garden?"
"Hush, Phil, don't make me laugh. Did you ever see anything like it?"
"Well, I've been to Studio jinks, but they were to this as moonlight unto sunlight and as water unto wine! Shall I take you home?"
"No, indeed! I want to see the fun. I've never been to a Studio jinks,--or whatever you call it, and I want to live and learn."
"All right, Patty. You shall stay as long as you like, but I'll wager that inside of an hour you'll be begging me to get you out of it."
"All right, if I do, I shall expect you to take me away. Let's look at the room."
They sauntered about, and finally sat down on a Turkish divan, which proved much lower than they had anticipated.
"What an