"
"Oh, I know just how I want that; almost exactly like my room at Aunt
Alice's, but with a few more of the sort of things I had in my room at
Aunt Isabel's. I do like pretty things, papa."
"That's right, my child, I'm glad you do; and I think your idea of pretty
things is not merely a taste for highfalutin gimcracks."
"No, I don't think it is," said Patty slowly; "but, all the same, you'd
better keep pretty close to me when I pick out the traps for my room. Do
you know, papa, I think Aunt Isabel wants to help us furnish our house.
She wrote that she would meet us in New York some time."
"That's kind of her," said Mr. Fairfield; "but, do _you_ know, it just
seems to me that we'll be able to manage it by ourselves. Our house is
not of the era of Queen Isabella, but of the Princess Patricia."
"That sounds like Aunt Isabel. They always called me Patricia there.
Don't you think, papa, now that I'm getting so grown up, I ought to be
called Patricia? Patty is such a baby name."
"Patty is good enough for me," said Mr. Fairfield. "If you want to be
called Patricia, you must get somebody else to do it. I dare say you
could hire somebody for a small sum per week to call you Patricia for a
given number of times every day."
"Now, you're making fun of me, papa; but I do want to grow up dignified,
and not be a silly schoolgirl all my life."
"Take care of your common sense, and your dignity will take care
of itself.
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