Then she unwrapped her mother's portrait, and placed it on the writing-table.
"It's a funny place, this, motherdy," she whispered to the picture, "and I don't know whether we'll like it or not; but we'll be happy together, you and I.And I think we'll like Aunt Hester, for she's papa's sister, you know, so she must be nice." Then Patty went down the three flights of stairs, as directed, in search of Molly.
"It's funny," she said to herself, "to go down cellar to breakfast.

But I'm sure she said three flights," and sure enough, when she reached the basement, Molly met her with a kindly smile, saying, "Come this way, miss," and Patty found that the front basement was the dining-room.
Its large windows were protected by iron railings, and the whole room had an air of solemn dignity rather than cheerfulness, but Molly was so pleasant and cordial that Patty felt cheerful at once.
The smiling Irish girl brought her some fruit, an omelet, hot rolls and delicious coffee, and after she had finished her solitary meal, Patty felt better able to cope with whatever might be awaiting her.
But apparently, nothing awaited her.
It was about ten o'clock, and as luncheon was announced for one, Patty wondered what she was expected to do in the meantime.
She asked Molly where Miss Elizabeth Fleming was.
"Laws, miss," said Molly, rolling her eyes, "don't make no attempt for to see her.

She's writin' a novel, and she's up in her den on the fourth floor.

We don't even call her to her meals.

If she wants to come, she comes; and if she don't, I takes a few things up and sets 'em outside her door." "Oh," said Patty, with great interest, "can't you speak to people when they're writing novels ?" "Indade, no, miss.