"
Patricia swung her strap of books thoughtfully. "Daddy says she has a
beautiful manner. I'm going to be just like her."
Nell's quick glance was hardly flattering. "When?"
"Anyhow, she's _my_ grandmother!" Patricia retorted; she shook out
her short skirts, if only she could have silk linings. Clothes were
beginning to take on new meanings for Patricia.
"We'd better hurry," Nell said, "or we'll be late."
"Grandmother never really hurries."
"Maybe she did when she was going to school; there's the bell now!"
"Bet I'll be there first," Patricia said, darting ahead.
But she wasn't; it seemed as if all the babies and dogs in town chose
that particular moment to get right in her path, avoiding with equal
skill Nell's eager rush. What with picking up a baby here and stopping
to speak to one there--Patricia never could get by babies--Patricia
reached the schoolhouse just too late to join her line and had to wait
outside until the opening exercises were over.
It was by no means the first time; and Miss Carrol looked very grave as
Patricia slipped into her place a little later, trying to ignore Nell's
bob of triumph.
It was after supper that evening that the doctor called Patricia into
the office.
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