She was in a soft, frilly white frock, with knots of pale blue
ribbon here and there, the knots holding sprays of tiny pink
rosebuds. A blue ribbon banded her head, and save for an extra
moist curliness in the soft rings of hair on her temples, no one
could have guessed that the serene looking girl had worked hard
and steadily for three hours in a kitchen.
"I surrender," whispered Bill; "you're the swiftest little piece
of property I ever saw!"
"Please address me in less undignified language," said Patty,
slowly waving a feather fan.
Bill bent a trifle lower, and murmured close to her ear,
"Mademoiselle Apple Blossom, you are the sweetest thing in the
world."
CHAPTER XIX
A FORCED MARCH
After luncheon they all strolled out on the verandas or through
the gardens, and Patty and Mona slipped away to hold a council of
war by themselves.
"You're a darling, Patty," Mona said, "and I was perfectly amazed
at those wonderful messes you fixed up for luncheon."
"I don't approve of the term you apply to my confections!"
"Well, you know what I mean. They were all PERFECT, you fairly
outdid Francois."
"That's better. Now, Mona mine, we must acquire some servants, and
that right speedily.
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