He said Mr.
Fairfield sent it."
"Oh!" exclaimed Patty, "did papa really send me up flowers for the Tea
Club? How perfectly lovely! I meant to order some myself, but I know his
will be nicer."
By this time Patty was diving into the big box and scattering tissue
paper all about.
"They're beautiful," she exclaimed, "and what lots of them! Yes, Pansy,
you may arrange them; you really do it better than I do. Keep all the
pink ones for the dining-room, and put the others wherever you like. Now,
Mancy," she went on, "we'll discuss what to eat."
"Yas'm, and I s'pose it'll be some ob dem highfalutin fandangoes ob yo's,
what nobody can't eat."
"You guessed right the very first time," said Patty, smiling back at
the good-natured old cook, whose bark was so much worse than her bite.
"You see, Mancy, this is my own party, and so I can have just what I
like at it. Not even papa can object to the things that I have for my
own Tea Club."
"Dat's so, chile, but co'se yo' knows you'se mighty likely to spoil dem
good t'ings befo' yo' get 'em made."
"Oh, I don't think I will this time," said Patty, with that assured
little toss of her head which always meant perfect confidence in her
own ability.
Mancy said nothing, but grunted somewhat doubtfully as Patty went on to
describe the beautiful things she intended to have.
"I want rissoles," she said, as she turned over the cookery-book, and
looked in the index for R.
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