“Indeed it won’t! But, hold on here, if it isn’t my departure, what is it that has made your countenance sicklied o’er with a pale cast of—something or other?”
“Rice powder, probably! Does it really make me look sickly? Good gracious!” Patty scrubbed at her cheeks with her handkerchief, until they were rosy indeed.
“Nope; you can’t rub it off! It’s ingrained. Come now, what’s up?”
“Well, I am bothered. Philip, how do war secrets leak out?”
“How do they keep from it, you mean! Why, Patty, the end and aim of a majority of our citizens seems to be to chatter and make trouble thereby. What’s exploded now?”
“Nothing that I can tell you,—only,—well,—never mind.”
“You transparent little goose! Have you been and went and told something Farnsworth told you not to?”
“No, I haven’t! But he thought I did, so it’s just as bad!”
“No; not _just_ as bad,—but, bad. What was it?”
“Never mind, but he thought I opened a sealed envelope and it’s still sealed.”
“Good! and locked away when you are asleep?”
“Good, again. Then, you’re all right. But let me warn you, Patty, to be most exceedingly cautious. Farnsworth’s work is of the highest importance, and his plans must not be known in advance. I know this even better than you do, and I beg of you to be even over-careful of any orders he may give you.”
“Oh, I am! I do! But you see, this matter must have leaked out some other way, and he thought it was because of my knowledge of it.”
“Patty!” Philip spoke suddenly; “did you have that letter with you that day at the Timothy Grass Club?”
“Yes; I had just received it that morning.”
“In my fur stole; there’s a buttoned pocket in the end of it, and it’s a safe place.”
“And that Munson,—that masquerader,—wore your stole!”
“So he did!” and Patty looked frightened. “But, no! that’s all right, Phil. The enclosed note was still sealed when I reached home, and it is sealed yet!”
“Very well; but don’t take any chances. Leave your letters at home and carefully locked up, if they contain anything outside your entirely personal affairs. I speak whereof I know, Patty, and you _must_ be careful!”
“I will, Philip, oh, truly I will,” and Patty gave the promise in all sincerity.
“Well,” said Helen Barlow, dashing into Patty’s room one morning, “I am certainly having the time of my sweet young life! They may say what they like about the horrors of war, and there are plenty of them, and nobody knows that better than I do, and nobody does more to help our side than you do, but all the same, my fairy-fair cousin, I do get a lot of pleasant parties and happy hours out of it all.”