“Without wishing to be discourteous,” he said, “I must say that I think the arguments just set forth are exceedingly flimsy.  There can be no question but that Vernondale would be a far better and more appropriate home for the young lady in question than any other spot on the globe.  Here we have wide streets, green lawns, fresh air, and bright sunshine; all conducive to that blooming state of health which our honourable judge now, apparently, enjoys.  City life would doubtless soon reduce her to a thin, pale, peaked specimen of humanity, unrecognisable by her friends.  The rose-colour in her cheeks would turn to ashen grey; her starry eyes would become dim and lustreless.  Her robust flesh would dwindle to skin and bone, and probably her hair would all fall out, and she’d have to wear a wig.”

Even Patty’s mallet was not able to check the burst of laughter caused by the horrible picture which Uncle Charley drew, but after it had subsided, he continued:  “As to the wonderful masters and teachers in the city, far be it from me to deny their greatness and power.  But the beautiful village of Vernondale is less than an hour from New York; no mosquitoes, no malaria; boating, bathing, and fishing.  Miss Fairfield could, therefore, go to New York for her instructions in the various arts and sciences, and return again to her Vernondale home on a local train.  Add to this the fact that here she has relatives, friends, and acquaintances, who already know and love her, while, in New York, she would have to acquire a whole new set, probably have to advertise for them.  As to the commuting gentleman:  before his first ticket was all punched up, he would be ready to vow that the commuter’s life is the only ideal existence.  Having thus offered unattackable arguments, I deem a decision in our favour a foregone conclusion, and I take pleasure in sitting down.”

“A very successful speech,” said Patty, smiling at her uncle.  “We will now be pleased to hear from the next speaker on the affirmative side.  Mrs. Charles Elliott, will you kindly speak what is on your mind?”

“I will,” said Mrs. Elliott, with a nod of her head that betokened Fairfield decision of character.  “I will say exactly what is on my mind without regard to which side I am on.”

“Oh, that isn’t fair!” cried Patty.  “A debate is a debate, you know, and you must make up opinions for your own side, whether you think them or not.”

“Very well,” said Aunt Alice, smiling a little, “then it being thoroughly understood that I am not speaking the truth, I will say that I think it better for Patty to live in New York.  As her father will be away all day at his business, she will enjoy the loneliness of a big brown-stone city house; she will enjoy the dark rooms and the entire absence of grass and flowers and trees, which she hates anyway; instead of picnics and boating parties, she can go to stiff and formal afternoon teas; and, instead of attending her young people’s club here, she can become a member of the Society of Social Economics.”