Patty's Social Season by Carolyn Wells

It was after midnight when the Christmas guests went away, and Patty / declared her intention of going to bed at once.

"I coasted and danced and played hide and seek till I'm utterly worn / out," she said, "and I think I shall sleep for a week!"

"But I'm going away to-morrow," said Philip, detaining her a moment.

"But you're coming back next week. I'll promise to be awake by then. / But now I'm going to hibernate, like a bear! Good-night, everybody! " / and Patty ran upstairs without further ceremony.

But as, in her pretty blue negligee, she sat before the mirror / brushing her long hair, Mona, Daisy, and Adele all came into her / room, quite evidently with a determination to chat.

"You're an old sleepy-head, Patty," declared Adele. "You may sleep as / late as you like in the morning, but we want to have a little confab / now, about lots of things."

"Nicht, nein, non, no! " cried Patty, jumping up and brandishing her / hair-brush. "I know perfectly well what your confabs mean, -- an hour or / more of chattering and giggling! Come in the morning, -- I'm going to / have my chocolate upstairs to-morrow, -- and I'll give you all the / information you want. But as for to-night, skip, scoot, scamper, and / vamoose, every dear, sweet, pretty little one of you!"

Laughingly, Patty pushed the three out of her room, and closing the / door after them, turned its key, unheeding their protests, and / returned to her hair-brushing.

"It's no use, Patricia," she said, talking to herself in the mirror, / as she often did, "letting those girls keep you up till all hours! You / need your beauty sleep, to preserve what small pretence to good looks / you have left."

Patty was not really vain of her pretty face, but she well knew that / her delicate type of beauty could not stand continuous late hours / without showing it, and Patty was not mistaken when she claimed for / herself a good share of common sense.

But as she brushed away at the golden tangle of curls, she heard a light / tap at her door, which sounded insistent, rather than mischievous.

"Who is it? " she asked, as she rose and went toward the door.

"It's Daisy," said a low voice. "Let me in, Patty, just for a minute."

So Patty opened the door, and Daisy Dow came in.

"I want to tell you something," she said, as Patty stood waiting, / brush in hand. "I don't really want to tell you a bit, -- but Jim says I / must," and Daisy looked decidedly cross and ill-tempered.

Patty realised that it was a bother of some kind, and she said, / gently, "Leave it till morning, Daisy; we'll both feel brighter then."

"No; Jim said I must tell you to-night. Oh, pshaw, it's nothing, / anyway! Only there _was_ a letter for you from Bill Farnsworth, and I / took it from May, and kept it for a while, just to tease you. I was / going to give it to you to-morrow, anyway; but Jim came and asked me / about it, and made _such_ a fuss! Men are so _silly_!"

"Why, no, Daisy, it isn't anything much; only you know people _do_ / like to have letters that belong to them! But, as you say, it's / nothing to make a fuss about. Incidentally, I believe it's a State's / prison offence, -- or would be if you opened it. You didn't, did you?"

"Of course not! " said Daisy; "but I knew it was only a card, like / ours, and I just kept it back for fun."

"It doesn't seem to me an awfully good joke, -- but never mind that. / Give me the letter, and we'll call it square, and I won't have you / arrested or anything."