They were ushered into the old-fashioned sitting-room, with its Brussels carpet showing huge baskets of flowers; its heterogeneous furniture, some chairs haircloth and black walnut, and others cane-seated, with rep cushions tied on; marble tables, of course; and an old sofa, with well-worn pillows and rugs. But the place had a hospitable air, and the two hostesses were fairly beaming with delight at this opportunity for entertainment. Miss Winthrop carried Patty off to her own bedroom. "You're jest all tuckered out, I can see," she said, hovering around her like a clucking hen; "but a wash-up and a good dish o' chicken pie will put you all to rights again." "But I must telephone before we eat dinner," said Patty. "So you shall,--so you shall. Now, don't you worry the leastest mite about anything." "How kind you are!" exclaimed Patty, smiling on the happy little old lady. "I suppose you belong to the real old New England Winthrops?" "Yes, and we're mighty proud of our name. I was so much so that I never would change it,"--and she chuckled. "Sister, though, she thought Fay was prettier." "Fay _is_ pretty," said Patty, cordially, "and now, if I may, I'll telephone, for I know our people will be wondering where we are." "All right, Miss Fairfield; come right along." But in returning to the sitting-room, Patty found Philip was already at the telephone. "Yep," he was saying, "lost our way; took wrong turning at Big Tree Fork. Brought up, somehow, at Mrs. Fay's. Accepted invitation to dinner,--chicken pie!--Start back immediately after the E in Pie! See? Expect us when we get there. Will accumulate a butter and a egg or two, on our way home. Love to all. Philip." He concluded his harangue, and turned to Patty. "All serene on the Potomac, Patty Pink! I told them all it was necessary for them to know; and if they desire further information, they can call us up. They know where we are. Me for the chicken pie!" CHAPTER XVI STORMBOUND The two old ladies were not of the quaint type, nor was their home picturesque. The place and the people were merely old-fashioned, and they were almost primitive in their ways. They were kind-hearted and hospitable, but they were of the rugged New England class that has lost the charm of its Colonial ancestry. The dinner was wholesome and plentiful, but with no variety, and served in the plainest fashion. The chicken pie was delicious, but it had no accompaniments except home-made hot biscuit and coffee with thick, rich, country cream. "I always say," said Miss Winthrop, as she settled herself at the table, "that chicken pie is a whole meal in itself, without any bothersome side-dishes. I say it's meat and drink both; but sister says she just can't enjoy it 'thout she has a cup of coffee alongside of it. Well, I've no objections to the coffee, I'm sure, but I'm free to admit it does seem superfluous. Still, with company so, it ain't so much out of place."