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Wells, Carolyn, 1862-1942

"Patty's Butterfly Days"

What are we doing to-night, after
this feast of fat things is over?"
"Nothing especial; dance a little, I suppose, sit around on the
veranda, sing choruses, and that sort of thing."
"There's a glorious full moon. Couldn't we escape for a little
spin? Just a very short one, in my runabout?"
"Yes, I'd love to. Or we could take my runabout."
"Or Mona's for that matter. I don't care what car we take, but I
do love a short, quick drive, and then come back for the dance."
"All right, I'll go. Mona won't mind, if I don't stay long."
"Oh, only just around a block or two. Just to clear the effect of
these flowers and candles from our brain."
"Isn't your brain a little weak, if it can't stand flowers and
candles?" asked Patty, laughing.
"Perhaps it is, and perhaps that's only an excuse to get away.
Hooray! Mona's rising now; let's make a mad dash."
"No; that isn't the way. Let's slide out quietly and
inconspicuously, through this side door."
Adopting this idea, Jack and Patty went out on a side veranda, and
stepped across the terrace to the garden paths. The moonlight
turned the picturesque flower-beds to fairy fields, and Patty
paused on one of the terrace landings.
"I don't know as I want to go motoring, Jack," she said, perching
herself on the marble balustrade; "it's so lovely here.


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