She had seen the picture often; it had been one of her father's chief
treasures, and she prized it the more highly as she thought what a
sacrifice it must have been for him to give it up, even to his child.
It was in a Florentine gold frame, and Patty placed it in the centre of her
dressing-table, and then sat down and gazed earnestly at it.
She saw a sweet, girlish face, which was very like her own, though she
didn't recognize the resemblance.
"Dear mother," she said softly, "I will try to be just such a little girl
as you would have wished me to be if you had lived to love me."
CHAPTER V
A MINUET
"Mamma," said Ethelyn, the next morning at breakfast, "I'm going to take a
holiday from lessons to-day, because Patricia has just come, and she
doesn't want to begin to study right away."
"Indeed, miss, you'll do nothing of the sort," replied her mother; "you had
a holiday yesterday because Patricia was coming; and one the day before, on
account of Mabel Miller's tea; and you had holiday all last week because of
the Fancy Bazaar.
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