Sarah groaned.  “Where’s them plates o’ sandwiches gone?  I ask you that!  Where’s them plates o’ biscuits gone?  I ask you that!  Where’s the little cakes, what I iced so pretty, gone?  I ask you that!  Ain’t I done fix them all in place and then I goes out to call them—­ginham aprons—­to come in,—­and I done galivant all over the place and all up and down the street and I ain’t seen the least speck o’ one o’ them—­but when I comes indoors—­the party done vanish!  And that ain’t all—­the cherry pie I done make for you’s and Miss Julia’s supper done vanish too.  But they ain’t got the ice cream—­I reckon the freezer was too heavy.”

“That at least is something to be thankful for,” the doctor said, “there would probably have been—­consequences—­had they secured both the cherry pie and the ice cream.”

“And the table looking so stylish,” Sarah mourned, “with the flowers and all the fixings.  Where’s that plate o’ chicken gone?  I ask you that!”

“Patrick,” Miss Kirby said, “you really must go look that child up! such behavior is—­”

“I’m going,” the doctor assured her, and as he went Miss Kirby saw him put his handkerchief to his eyes more than once.

Through the garden he went, through the orchard.  Half-way across the meadow beyond the orchard he came upon Custard dining at second table, and too busy to do more than wag a welcome.

A few yards further on stood an old apple tree, and from the top-most branch came, in Patricia’s clear notes: 

  “’If I could find a higher tree
  Farther and farther I should see,
  To where the grown-up river slips
  Into the sea among the ships.’”

The doctor stood still, making a trumpet of his hands.  “Ship ahoy!” he called.

The next instant seven girls came wriggling and scrambling down from the various branches.  “Oh!  Daddy,” Patricia cried joyously, “we’re having the jolliest time—­we’re pirates!  I’m captain—­

  “’My name is Captain Kidd,
  And most wickedly I did,
  As I sailed, as I sailed!’”

“And, according to report, before you sailed, young lady.  Suppose you make explanation regarding certain late extremely piratical proceedings.”

“You mean about the supper, Daddy?  You see, we didn’t feel very partified—­at least, we thought we didn’t look exactly—­”

As she hesitated, the doctor, glancing from one to another of the seven, nodded comprehendingly.  “I quite agree with you, Pat; you do not look very—­partified.”

They were so dusty, so disheveled; all but Patricia had shoes on—­Custard had made off with both of Susy’s, and Patricia had most willingly offered hers—­the opportunity to go barefoot was too good to be lost; Nell had only one stocking, Kitty none at all, Ruth was wearing Patricia’s, Custard had certainly made the most of his chance to carry off things that afternoon.

“But we’ve had a be-au-ti-ful time,” Susy said, slipping a hand into the doctor’s.  She quite forgot that he was a comparative stranger, remembering only that he was Patricia’s father—­Patricia, who had invited her to this most wonderful of parties, where one had been so busy having fun that there had been no time for feeling shy and strange.