The 1st of February was Sunday, but on Monday morning the postman brought
a sheaf of letters which were evidently bills.
Patty had no time to look at these before she went to school, so she
placed them carefully in her desk, determined to hurry home that
afternoon and get her accounts into apple-pie order before her father
came home. After school she returned to find a supplementary lot of bills
had been left by the postman, and also Mancy presented her with a number
of bills which the tradesmen had left that morning.
Patty took the whole lot to her desk, and with methodical exactness noted
the amounts on the pages of her little books. She and her father had
talked the matter over, more or less, and Patty knew just about what Mr.
Fairfield expected the bills to amount to.
But to her consternation she discovered, as she went along, that each
bill was proving to be about twice as large as she had anticipated.
"There must be some mistake," she said to herself, "we simply _can't_
have eaten all those groceries. Anybody would think we ran a branch
store. And that butcher's bill is big enough for the Central Park
menagerie! They must have added it wrong."
But a careful verification of the figures proved that they were added
right, and Patty's heart began to sink as she looked at the enormous
sum-totals.
"To think of all that for flowers! Well, papa bought some of them, that's
a comfort; but I had no idea I had ordered so many myself.
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