Patty's Suitors opens with a Valentine party, where the heroine's enthusiasm for her "boofy frock" and her stepmother's mild reproach set the tone for a story built on playful banter and social performance. Patty's self-aware coquetry—"It's so interesting to flirt"—is immediately established as both a source of comedy and a character trait the narrative will test. The early chapters rely on dialogue and light description, with little interior reflection, inviting readers to infer motives from what characters say and do.
A Coquette's Vocabulary
Patty's speech in the opening chapter is a catalog of period slang: "peach," "hummer," "lallapaloosa." Her stepmother Nan's mild correction—"Patty, Patty! what language!"—and Patty's own resolution to "stop using slang" that she immediately forgets, reveal a tension between propriety and spontaneity. This verbal play is not mere decoration; it signals Patty's social confidence and her habit of charming through exaggeration. Readers should note how her word choices shift in later excerpts, especially during the quarantine, where her tone becomes more pragmatic and less theatrical. The contrast between the party's artificial language and the enforced intimacy of the house party underscores the novel's interest in how social masks hold up under pressure.
The Quarantine as Plot Engine
Midway through the excerpts, a diphtheria quarantine strands Patty and three young men—Kenneth, Kit, and Cameron—along with Marie, in a country house. The situation is introduced abruptly: "the house is quarantined. By order of the Board of Health." This external constraint forces the characters into sustained proximity, transforming the flirtatious dynamics of the party into something more sustained and revealing. Patty's response is notably practical: she telephones for clothes, declares she will "do my best to be cheerful," and proposes bridge. The quarantine functions as a narrative device that tests the resilience of social graces, and readers may watch for how the enforced isolation alters the balance of attention among the suitors.
Shifting Tones in Dialogue
The excerpts show a marked shift in dialogue style between the party and the quarantine. Early exchanges are rapid, full of teasing and rhetorical questions: "Don't you know half the fun in life is enthusiasm?" Later, the same characters speak in shorter, more practical sentences: "Let's play bridge," "I'm going to my room for a nap." The playful banter of the Valentine party gives way to a subdued, almost weary politeness. Kit's attempt to rally the group—"let's pretend that we're not kept here against our will"—is met with silence and a dragging card game. This tonal change is a clue to the novel's structure: the early chapters establish a comic register, while the middle sections introduce a more subdued, introspective mood. Readers should attend to how characters' voices adapt to circumstance, as this variation is a key feature of Wells's characterization.
The Role of Minor Characters
Though the excerpts focus on Patty, several secondary figures emerge as more than props. Nan, the stepmother, provides a foil with her measured responses; Marie, a cousin, voices complaints that contrast with Patty's forced cheerfulness. Kenneth, Kit, and Cameron are distinguished by their reactions to the quarantine: Kenneth is "manfully striving to shake off the gloom," while Kit takes charge of telephoning and proposing activities. These small behavioral details—rather than lengthy descriptions—define the suitors. Readers may find it useful to track how each young man responds to Patty's moods and to the crisis, as their actions during the quarantine likely foreshadow later developments in the romantic plot. The novel's title promises multiple suitors, and the excerpts suggest their differentiation will emerge through conduct, not declaration.
Because the excerpts cover only the opening and middle chapters, the resolution of the quarantine and the eventual fates of the suitors remain unknown. A first-time reader should approach the novel as a social comedy that relies on dialogue and situation rather than internal monologue. Pay attention to the rhythm of Patty's speech and the small gestures of the young men; the story's pleasures lie in the interplay of manners and the gradual revelation of character under constraint.
There’s something touching about how Patty’s cheerful quarantine turns a room full of strangers into a little world of its own—mostly in what they leave unsaid. It reminds me of the tender awkwardness in The Little Minister — Story, Setting & Ideas, where the real story hides between the lines of a small-town dance. Both feel like quiet afternoons spent listening in on other people’s hearts.