"I do think," said Marian, "it's awfully mean of Helen Preston to insist on having a bazaar. They're so old-fashioned and silly; and we could get up some novel entertainment that would make just as much money, and be a lot more fun besides." "I know it," said Patty. "I just hate bazaars; with their everlasting Rebeccas at the Well, and flower-girls, and fish-ponds, and gipsy-tents. But, then, what could we have?" "Why, there are two or three of those little acting shows that Elsie Morris told us about. I think they would be a great deal nicer." "What sort of acting shows are you talking about, my children; and what is it all to be?" asked Mr. Fairfield, who was always interested in Patty's plans. "Why, papa, it's the Tea Club, you know; and we're going to have an entertainment to make money for the Day Nursery--oh, you just ought to see those cunning little babies! And they haven't room enough, or nurses enough, or anything. And you know the Tea Club never has done any good in the world; we've never done a thing but sit around and giggle; and so we thought, if we could make a hundred dollars, wouldn't it be nice?" "The hundred dollars would be very nice, indeed; but just how are you going to make it? What's this about an acting play?" "Oh, not a regular play,--just a sort of dialogue thing, you know; and we'd have it in Library Hall, and Aunt Alice and a lot of her friends would be patronesses." "It would seem to me," said Frank, "that Miss Patty Fairfield, now being an old and experienced housekeeper, could qualify as a patroness herself." "No, thank you," said Patty. "I'm housekeeper for my father, and in my father's house, but to the great outside world I'm still a shy and bashful young miss." "You don't look the part," said Frank; "you ought to go around with your finger in your mouth." "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" said Patty. "I shall begin to cultivate the habit at once." "Do," said Marian; "I'm sure it would be becoming to you, but perhaps hard on your gloves." "Well, there's one thing certain," said Patty: "I would really rather put my finger in my mouth than to crook out my little finger in that absurd way that so many people do. Why, Florence Douglass never lifts a cup of tea that she doesn't crook out her little finger, and then think she's a very pattern of all that's elegant." "I know it," said Marian. "I think it's horrid, too; it's nothing but airs. I know lots of people who do it when they're all dressed up, but who never think of such a thing when they are alone at home." "I wonder what the real reason is?" said Patty thoughtfully. "It is an announcement of refinement," said Mr. Fairfield, falling in with his daughter's train of thought; "and, as we all know, the refinement that needs to be announced is no refinement at all. We therefore see that the conspicuously curved little finger is but an advertisement of a specious and flimsy imitation of aristocracy."