"I can never be 'published' in church," she thought, "and perhaps
nobody will ever care enough about me to brave father's
displeasure and insist on running away with me. I do wish
somebody would care 'frightfully' about me, enough for that;
enough to help me make up my mind; so that I could just drive up
to father's store some day and say: 'Good afternoon, father! I
knew you'd never let me marry--'" (there was always a dash here,
in Patty's imaginary discourses, a dash that could be filled in
with any Christian name according to her mood of the moment)"'so
I just married him anyway; and you needn't be angry with my
sister, for she knew nothing about it. My husband and I are sorry
if you are displeased, but there's no help for it; and my
husband's home will always be open to Waitstill, whatever
happens.'"
Patty, with all her latent love of finery and ease, did not weigh
the worldly circumstances of the two men, though the reflection
that she would have more amusement with Mark than with Philip may
have crossed her mind. She trusted Philip, and respected his
steady-going, serious view of life; it pleased her vanity, too,
to feel how her nonsense and fun lightened his temperamental
gravity, playing in and out and over it like a butterfly in a
smoke bush.
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