“Patty,” he said, “don’t you want to come for a little stroll on the board walk?”

“Yes, of course I do,” said Patty, wondering a little, but always ready to go with her father.  “Is Nan going?”

“No, I just want you,” said Mr. Fairfield.

“All right,” said Patty, “I’m glad to go.”

They joined the crowd of promenaders on the board walk, and as they passed Patty’s favourite bit of beach she said: 

“That’s where we girls sit and talk about our ambitions.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard,” said Mr. Fairfield.  “And what are your ambitions, baby?”

“Oh, mine aren’t half so grand and gorgeous as the other girls’.  They want to do great things, like singing in grand opera and writing immortal books and things like that.”

“And your modest ambition is to be a good housekeeper, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes, papa; but not only that.  I was thinking about it afterward by myself, and I think that the housekeeping is the practical part of it—­and that’s a good big part too—­but what I really want to be is a lovely, good, womanly woman, like Aunt Alice, you know.  I don’t believe she ever wanted to write books or paint pictures.”

“No she never did,” said Mr. Fairfield, “and I quite agree with you that her ambitions are just as high and noble as those others you mentioned.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so, papa, for I was afraid I might seem to you very small and petty to have all my ambitions bounded by the four walls of my own home.”

“No, Patty, girl, I think those are far better than unbounded ambitions, far more easily realised, and will bring you greater and better happiness.  But don’t you see, my child, that the very fact of your having a talent—­which you certainly have—­for housekeeping and home-making, implies that some day, in the far future, I hope, you will go away from me and make a home of your own?”

“Very likely I shall, papa; but that’s so far in the future that it’s not worth while bothering about it now.”

“But I’m going to bother about it now to a certain extent.  Do you realise that when this does come to pass, be it ever so far hence, that you’re going to leave your poor old father all alone, and that, too, after I have so carefully brought you up for the express purpose of making a home for me?”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” said Patty, who was by no means taking her father’s remarks seriously.

“Do?  Why, I’m going to do just this.  I’m going to get somebody else to keep my house for me, and I’m going to get her now, so that I’ll have her ready against the time you leave me.”

Patty turned, and by the light of an electric lamp which they were passing, saw the smile on her father’s face, and with a sudden intuition she exclaimed: 

“Nan!”

“Yes,” replied her father, “Nan.  How do you like it?”

“Like it?” exclaimed Patty.  “I love it!  I think it’s perfectly gorgeous!  I’m just as delighted as I can be!  How does Nan like it?”