Patty and Azalea | Page 2

days even to learn her way round, and she loved
every room, hall and passage. There were fascinating windows, great
wide and deep ones, and little oriels and dormers. There were
unexpected turns and nooks, and there was,--which brought joy to
Patty's heart,--plenty of closet space.
The whole place was of noble proportions and magnificent size, but
Patty's home-making talents brought cosiness to the rooms they
themselves used and stateliness and beauty to the more formal
apartments.
"We must look ahead," she told Billee, "for I expect to spend my whole

life here. I don't want to fix a place up just as I like it, and then scoot
off and leave it and live somewhere else. And when our daughter
begins to have beaux and entertain house parties, we'll need all the
room there is."
"You have what Mr. Lucas calls a 'leaping mind,'" Bill remarked. "But
I'm ready to confess I like room enough to swing a cat in,--even if I've
no intention of swinging poor puss."
And so they set blithely to work to furnish their ancestral halls, as Patty
called them, claiming that an ancestral hall had to have a beginning
some time, and she was beginning hers now.
Such fun as it was selecting rugs and hangings, furniture and ornaments,
books and pictures.
Lots of things they had bought abroad, for Captain Bill had been
fortunate in his affairs and had had some leisure time in France and
England after the war was over to collect some art treasures.
Also, they didn't try or want to complete the whole house at once. Part
of the fun would be in adding bits later on, and if there were no place to
put them, there would be no fun in buying things.
Patty was a wise and careful buyer. Only worth-while things were
selected, not a miscellaneous collection of trumpery junk. So the result
to date was charming furniture and appointments, but space for more
when desired.
Little Billee's taste, too, was excellent, and he and Patty nearly always
agreed on their choice. But it was a rule that if either disapproved, the
thing in question was not bought. Only such as both sanctioned could
come into their home.
The house had a wide and hospitable Colonial doorway, with broad
fanlight above and columns at either side. Seats, too, flanked the porch,
and the carefully trimmed wistaria vine hung gracefully over all.
Across both ends of the house ran wide verandahs, with porte cochère,

sun parlour, conservatory and tea-porch breaking the monotony.
Patty's own bedroom was an exquisite nest, done up in blue and silver,
and her boudoir, opening from it, was a dream of pink and white. Then
came the baby's quarters; the day nursery, gay with pictured walls and
the sun porch, bright and airy.
For the all-important baby was now two months old, and entitled to
consideration as a real member of the family.
Fleurette was her name, only selected after long thought and much
discussion. Bill had stood out for Patricia Fairfield Farnsworth, but
Patty declared no child of hers should be saddled with such a burden
for life! Then Bill declared it must be a diminutive, in some way, of the
mother's name, and as he always called Patty his Blossom Girl, the only
suggestion worth considering was something that meant Little Flower.
And as their stay in France had made the French language seem less
foreign than of yore, they finally chose Fleurette,--the Baby Blossom.
Farnsworth was a man of affairs, and had sometimes to go to
Washington or other distant cities on business, but not often or for a
long stay. And as Patty expressed it, that was a lot better than for him
to have to go to New York every day,--as so many men of their
acquaintance did.
"I never thought I'd be as happy as this," Patty said, as, still holding her
baby, she sat rocking slowly, and gazing alternately at her husband and
her child.
"Why not?" Farnsworth inquired, as he lighted a fresh cigar.
"Oh, it's too much for any one mortal! Here I've the biggest husband in
the world, and the littlest baby--"
"Oh, come now,--that's no incubator chick!"
"No, she's fully normal size, Nurse says, but she's a tiny mite as yet,"
and Patty cuddled the mite in an ecstasy of maternal joy.

"I thought friend Nurse wouldn't let you snuggle the kiddy like that."
"She doesn't approve,--but she's still at her lunch and when the cat's
away--"
And then the white uniformed nurse appeared, and smiled at pretty
Patty as she took the baby from her cuddling arms.
"Come for a ride, Patty Maman?" asked her husband, as they left the
little Fleurette's presence.
"No; let's go for a walk. I want to look over