Patricia opened her plan with great expedition, pouring out explanation and entreaty in one excited rush, while Miss Jinny sat opposite her on the side of the bed, her rather protruding pale blue eyes cocked sidewise at her in the meditative way she had when deeply interested.
"So you see, we really _need_ you. And you wouldn't have to wear anything very outlandish, you know," urged Patricia, ending up with her strongest argument. "And I'm sure Judy would love to be with Mrs. Shelly alone--they'd have so much more chance for talk together."
Miss Jinny said not a word for what seemed to Patricia a very long minute; then she gave her deep chuckle and said decisively, "I'll go as Sinbad the Sailor. I've a picture of him at home, and I know just how he's dressed. He's so everlastingly muffled up about his shanks that I used to think he was a lady when I was knee high to a grasshopper."
Patricia gave a gasp. "But he wore a turban and great whiskers!" she said, impulsively. "How in the world could you stand that?"
Miss Jinny cocked her head knowingly. "Trust me," she replied, laconically. "I had a cousin who was an actor and I saw him put on a beautiful beard with spirit-gum and creped hair once. That was twenty years ago, but I reckon they can still be had here in town."
Patricia hesitated. "But perhaps you'd rather have an easier costume,--Aladdin's mother, or----"
Miss Jinny shook her head. "I always was bent on sea-life and I know a lot about it. I can swap tales that'll make them believe I'm the only genuine Sinbad, and I wouldn't miss the chance for a mint," she said conclusively.
Patricia was forced to give in gracefully. "I know you'll be splendid," she declared with rather forced heartiness. "I wish we were as well fixed for our parts."
Miss Jinny, with a glance at the little book in her hand, gave a guilty start and jumped up from the bed's edge with a horrified face.
"Do you know that it's Sunday morning, and I ought to be reading my two chapters?" she demanded severely. "This town life is making me forget my religion already, and as for you, you worldly-minded young sinner, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, beguiling me with your heathenish dance parties. Go along now and let me get my mind in order again."