Do you know, papa, I think Aunt Isabel wants to help us furnish our house.
She wrote that she would meet us in New York some time." "That's kind of her," said Mr.Fairfield; "but, do _you_ know, it just seems to me that we'll be able to manage it by ourselves.

Our house is not of the era of Queen Isabella, but of the Princess Patricia." "That sounds like Aunt Isabel.

They always called me Patricia there.
Don't you think, papa, now that I'm getting so grown up, I ought to be called Patricia?
Patty is such a baby name." "Patty is good enough for me," said Mr.Fairfield.

"If you want to be called Patricia, you must get somebody else to do it.

I dare say you could hire somebody for a small sum per week to call you Patricia for a given number of times every day." "Now, you're making fun of me, papa; but I do want to grow up dignified, and not be a silly schoolgirl all my life." "Take care of your common sense, and your dignity will take care of itself." After they crossed the ferry, and reached the New York side, Mr.
Fairfield took a cab, and they made a round of the various shops, buying such beautiful things that Patty grew fairly ecstatic with delight.
"I do think you're wonderful, papa," she exclaimed, after they had selected the dining-room furnishings.