LITMIR.BIZ

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After dinner the whole party went to the opera]

      When the final curtain fell, Mrs. Van Reypen invited her guests to return to her house for supper, but Patty declined.

      "Very well, my dear," said her hostess, "I think, myself, you're too young to be out any later than this. We will set you down at your own door, and you must hop right into bed and get your beauty sleep. Young things like you can't stay young unless you take good care of your pinky cheeks."

      "But I don't want Patty to go home," Philip grumbled, to his aunt.

      "Your wishes are not consulted, my boy; this is my party. You're merely my guest, and, if you don't behave yourself, you won't get invited again."

      "That scares me dreadfully," and Philip lightly pinched his aunt's cheek. "I will be good, so I'll be asked again."

      The big limousine stopped at Patty's door, and Philip escorted her up the steps.

      "I think you might have come to supper," he said, reproachfully, as he touched the bell.

      "It's too late," said Patty, decidedly; "and, besides, I have other plans for the rest of the evening."

      And with this enigmatical announcement Philip was forced to be content, for Patty said good-night and vanished through the doorway.

      "And, indeed, I HAVE other plans," Patty said, to herself. "I'm simply consumed with curiosity to know which of those three beauties that ridiculous Kit man likes the best. I'm going to call him up and see. I wish he could call me up,—it would suit me far better. But I suppose nobody can call anybody else up if nobody knows anybody else's name."

      "Do you want any supper, Miss Patty?" asked Louise, as she unhooked

      Patty's frock.

      "No, thank you, I'm not a bit hungry. You might bring me a cup of milk and a biscuit, and then give me a kimono. I'm not going to bed just yet."

      So Louise arranged everything just as Patty wanted it, and finally went away.

      "May as well be comfortable," said Patty, as she tucked herself into a favourite big chair, with the telephone on a little stand beside her. "I suppose I'll run up a fine bill for extra time, but, after all, it's less extravagant than a good many other things. Wonder how much they charge for overtime. I must ask Daddy."

      With a smile of anticipation Patty picked up the telephone.

      "Hello!" said Mr. Cameron's eager voice. "I thought you'd never come.

      I've been waiting since ten."

      "I've been to the opera," said Patty, nonchalantly. "And you've NO reason to sit and wait for me! I'm not a dead certainty, like the sunrise or the postman."

      "You're more welcome than either."

      "Now that's a real pretty speech. Are you a poet?"

      "Only to you."

      "Did you get the pictures?" Patty was unable longer to restrain her impatience.

      "Of course I got the pictures. I knew yours at once! You needn't think you can fool ME."

      "Which was mine? The girl with the black curls?"

      "Mercy, no! I know you're not THAT type. She looks like an actress, and hasn't a brain in her silly head. And you're not that lackadaisical lily-like one, either. Oh, I know YOU! You're that delightful, sensible, really brainy girl with the smooth black hair."

      "Oh, I AM, am I?"

      "Yes; and I'm SO glad you're not a rattle-pated beauty! What's a pretty face compared to real mind and intellect!"

      Patty was furious. She didn't aspire to nor desire this great mind and intellect, and she was quite satisfied with the amount of brains in her pretty, curly head.

      "I don't think much of your taste!" she exclaimed.

      "Why! you don't want me to be disappointed because you're not pretty, do you?"

      "But I AM pretty."

      "Yes; as I said, the beauty of deep thought and education shines from your clear eyes. That is far better than dimples and curls."

      Patty shook her curls at the telephone and her dimples came and went with her varying emotions.

      "Why, I shouldn't like you half as well if you were pretty," Mr. Cameron went on. "The only things I consider worth while are seriousness and scholarship. These you have in abundance, as I can see at once from your picture."

      "And how do you like the way I dress?"

      "It suits your type exactly. That large black-and-white check denotes a mind far above the frivolities of fashion, and that stiff white collar, to my mind, indicates a high order of mentality."

      "I think you're perfectly horrid!" And this exclamation seemed wrung from the depths of Patty's soul.

      A ringing laugh answered her—a laugh so hearty and so full of absolute enjoyment that Patty listened in astonishment.

      "Poor little Princess Poppycheek! It's a shame to tease her! WAS she maligned by a bad, horrid man that she doesn't even know? There, Little Girl, don't cry! I know perfectly well that stiff old schoolmarm isn't you! Now, will you tell me who you are, and what you really look like?"

      Patty had to think quickly. She had supposed that Cameron meant what he said, but after all he was fooling her. And she had thought she fooled him!

      "Which is me, then?" she said, in a small, low voice.

      "None of 'ern! You goosie! To think you could fool ME. In the first place, I knew you wouldn't send your own photograph; and when I saw those three charming specimens, in out-of-date clothes, I knew you had ransacked your album to find them. However, I took the whole bunch down to Marie, and she vowed she had never laid eyes on one of them before. So there, now!"

      "Then we're just back where we started from," said Patty, cheerfully.

      "Yes; but, if you'll come to the musicale on Friday night, we can make great progress in a short time."

      "I told you I'd go, if you would persuade Marie to invite me."

      "Nonsense! I believe she HAS invited you. I believe you're Miss

      Curtiss. SHE has dark hair."

      "Why not that other singer, Miss Fairfield?"

      "Oh, Marie says she's a blonde. The 'raving beauty' sort. I detest that kind. I know she's vain."

      "Yes, she is. I hate to speak against another girl, but I know that

      Patty Fairfield, and she IS vain."

      "Well, never mind about Patty Fairfield She doesn't interest me a bit.

      But what about you? Will you come to the party? Oh, DO-ee,

      DO-ee,—now,—as my old Scotch nurse used to say. Come to your waiting

      knight!"

      Kit's voice was very wheedlesome, and Patty was moved to encourage him a little.

      "Do you know,—I almost think—that maybe—possibly—perhaps, I WILL go."

      "Really? Oh, Poppycheek, I'm SO glad! I do want to see My Girl!"

      "YOUR girl, indeed!"

      "Yes; mine by right of discovery."

      "But you haven't discovered me yet."

      "But I will,—on Friday night. You'll TRULY come, WON'T you?"

      "Honest, I've never been where I wasn't invited—"

      "But this is different–"

      "Yes,—it IS different–"

      "Oh, then you will come! Goody, GOODY! I'm so glad!"

      "Don't break the telephone with your gladness! Suppose I DO come, how will you know me? How will you know that it is I?"

      "Oh, I'll know! 'I shall know it, I shall feel it, something subtle will reveal it, for a glory round thee hovers that will lighten up the gloom.'"

      "Oh, you ARE a poet."

      "I

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