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Wells, Carolyn, 1862-1942

"Patty's Butterfly Days"

"Now, look
here, if you'll just be friendly and decent, we needn't have such
a bad time, but if you're going to be cross and cry all the time,
I shall simply let you alone, and we'll have a horrid,
uncomfortable time."
This straightforward, common-sense talk brought Daisy to her
senses, and though she still looked petulant, she made no more
cross or unkind speeches.
"What are you going to do?" she enquired as Patty took off her
chiffon gown, and held it carefully before the fire. "That frock
is ruined."
"Yes, I know, but I'm going to pick it out and make it look as
decent as I can. I suppose I'll have to wear it home when I go.
Take off yours, and I'll dry them both nicely. I'm good at this
sort of thing. Here, I'll unhook it."
Daisy dropped her own party frock on the floor and showed little
interest as Patty picked it up and daintily fingered its frills
into something like shapeliness.
"Hunt around, Daisy," Patty said, knowing it best to keep the girl
occupied. "Surely you can find something to put round our
shoulders. An afghan or even a table cover would do for a dressing
jacket."
Slightly interested, Daisy went into the next room and returned
with two lengths of brocaded silk.


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