Aunt Isabel sniffed.  “You ought to have gone to Paris with me,” she said.  “You’re growing up to be a good-looking girl, Patty, and the right kind of clothes would set you off wonderfully.”

Patty said nothing, but as she glanced at Ethelyn’s furbelows she felt thankful she was not going to Paris with Aunt Isabel.

But Patty found that there was quite a great deal of shopping to be done before she sailed.

Nan took these matters in charge and declared that Patty needed a complete though not an elaborate steamer outfit.

Nan dearly loved buying pretty clothes and was quite in her element making Patty’s purchases.  A dark blue tailor-made cloth, trimmed with touches of green velvet, was chosen for her travelling costume.

Her “going-away dress” Marian persisted in calling it, just as if Patty were a bride; but as Marian burst into tears every time she mentioned Patty’s going away, her words were so indistinct that it mattered little what terms she used.

Then Nan selected one or two pretty light gowns of a somewhat dressy nature for dinner on board the steamer, and one or two simple evening gowns for the ship’s concert or other festive occasions.  A white serge suit was added for pleasant afternoons on deck, and some dainty kimonos and negligees for stateroom use.

Patty was delighted with all these things, but could scarcely take time to appreciate them, as she found so many other things to do by way of her own preparations.  So many people came to see her and she had to go to see so many other people.  Then she had to have her photographs taken to leave with her friends, and she was constantly being invited to little farewell luncheons or teas.

“Indeed,” as Patty expressed it, “the whole two weeks of preparation seems like one long, lingering farewell; and when I’m not saying good-bye to any one else, I’m trying to stop Marian’s freshly flowing tears.”

The girls bought Patty parting gifts, and though they were all either useful or pretty, Patty appreciated far more the loving spirit which prompted them.

“I made this all myself,” said Hilda, as she brought Patty a dainty sleeping gown of blue and white French flannel, “because it’s utterly impossible to buy this sort of thing ready-made and have it just right.  If you don’t say this is just right I’ll never make you another as long as I live.”

“It’s exactly right, Hilda,” said Patty, taking the pretty garment.  “I know I shall dream of you whenever I wear it, and that’s too bad, too, for I ought to devote some of my dreams to other people.”

“This is a cabin bag,” said Lorraine, bringing her offering.  “I didn’t make it myself, because this is so much neater and prettier than a homemade one.  You see it has a pocket for everything that you can possibly require, from hairpins to shoehorn.  Not that you’ll put anything in the pockets—­nobody ever does—­but it will look pretty decorating your cabin wall.”