could come to look after you. If Nan's mother could come, that
would do beautifully. But Mrs. Allen is in Europe and none of your
aunts could leave her own family. No, girlie, I can't see any way
to separate our family."

So Patty, with her unfailing good nature, had agreed to go to the
White Mountains with the others. She admitted, herself, that she'd
probably have a good time, as she always did everywhere, but still
her heart clung to "The Pebbles," as they called their seashore
home, and she silently rebelled when she thought of "Camilla," her
swift little electric runabout.

Patty drove her own car, and she never tired of spinning along the
shore roads, or inland through the pine groves and laurel jungles.
She had become acquainted with many young people, both cottagers
and hotel guests, and the outlook for a pleasant summer and fall
at Spring Beach was all that could be desired from her point of
view. But before they left the city in the spring, Patty had known
that Nan preferred mountain localities and had agreed to the
seashore house for her sake; so, now, it was Patty's turn to give
up her preference for Nan's.

And she was going to do it,--oh, yes,--she was going to do it
cheerfully and even gaily. But, though she tried to pretend she
didn't care, Nan knew she did care, and she had tried hard to
think of some way that Patty might be left behind. Nan would
willingly have given up her own desires, and stayed at Spring
Beach all summer, but her husband wouldn't hear of it. Mr.
Fairfield said that justice demanded a fair division of the
season, and already three months had been spent at the seashore,