LITMIR.BIZ

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all because Patty, the moving spirit, was grave and quiet, with a scared, drawn look on her sweet face.

      Hastily running over the letters, Kenneth laid aside all but one, and slowly extended that to Patty.

      She took it, opened it, and read it with a dazed expression.

      The eager ones circled round, with faces tense and waiting.

      Again Patty read her letter. Then, still with that dazed look on her face, she glanced from one to another. As her eyes met Mr. Hepworth’s, she suddenly held the paper out to him.

      “I’ve won,” she said, simply, and gave him the letter.

      Then she drew a short little sigh, almost a sob of relief, and then the colour came back to her face, the light to her eyes, and she smiled naturally.

      “I’ve won!” she cried again. “It’s all right!”

      Then there was jubilation, indeed! Everybody congratulated everybody else. Everybody had to read the wonderful letter, and see for himself that the prize, the Electric Runabout, had indeed been awarded to Miss Patricia Fairfield, for the best and most complete list of answers to the puzzles in the contest.

      Only the girls’ parents and Gilbert Hepworth knew how tightly the tension of Patty’s nerves had been strained, but they had been alertly watching for any sign of collapse, and were thankful and relieved that the danger was over.

      Hepworth didn’t stop then to wonder why Patty had handed him the letter first. And, indeed, she didn’t know herself. But she felt his sensitive sympathy so keenly, and saw such deep anxiety in his eyes, that involuntarily she turned to him in her moment of triumph.

      “I told you so!” Philip Van Reypen was shouting. “I knew we’d win! Hepworth, old man, you did it, with that last charade! Bully for you!”

      “Yes, he did!” cried Patty, holding out her hand to Mr. Hepworth, with a smile of gratitude; “but you all helped me. Oh, isn’t it splendid! I didn’t so much care for the car, but I wanted to win!”

      “Oh, listen to that!” exclaimed Kenneth. “She didn’t care for the car! Oh, Patty, what are you saying? Give me the car, then!”

      “Oh, of course I want the car, you goose! But I mean I really cared more for the game,—the winning of it!”

      “Of course you did!” declared Van Reypen. “That’s the true sportsman spirit: ‘not the quarry, but the chase!’ I’m proud of you, Miss Fairfield! Your sentiments are the right sort.”

      Patty smiled and dimpled, quite her roguish self again, now that the exciting crisis was past.

      “Nan,” she cried, “we must celebrate! Will you invite all this hilarious populace to dinner, or give them an impromptu tea-fight right now?”

      “Dinner!” cried Philip Van Reypen; and “Dinner!” took up the other voices, in gay insistence.

      “Very well,” said Nan; “but, if it’s to be dinner, you must all run away now and come back later. I can’t order a celebration dinner at a moment’s notice.”

      “All right, we will.” And obediently the guests went away, to return later for a gala dinner.

      And a real celebration it was. Mr. Fairfield himself went out to the florist’s and returned with a centrepiece for the table, consisting of a wicker automobile filled with flowers.

      By dint of much telephoning, Nan provided place cards and favours of little motor cars; and the ices were shaped like tiny automobiles; and the cakes like tires. And all the viands were so delicious, and the guests so gay and merry, that the feast was one long to be remembered by all.

      “When will you get the car, Patty?” asked Elise.

      “I don’t know exactly. In a fortnight, perhaps. But we’ll be down at Spring Beach then, so whoever wants a ride in it will have to come down there.”

      “I want a ride in it,” said Philip Van Reypen, “and I will come down there. May I ask you to set the date?”

      “You’ll get a notification in due season,” said Patty, smiling at the eager youth. “I’m not sure it’s your turn first. No, Elise must be first.”

      “Why, I didn’t help you at all,” said Elise, greatly pleased, however, at Patty’s remark.

      “No, but you’re my lady friend, and so you come first. Perhaps your brother will come with you.”

      “Perhaps he will!” said Roger, with emphasis.

      “And who comes next?” asked Kenneth, with great interest.

      “Christine, of course,” said Patty, smiling at the Southern girl, who was enjoying all the fun, though quiet herself.

      “Just as I guessed,” said Kenneth. “And, then, who next? Don’t keep me in suspense!”

      “Owing to the unexpected number of applicants, decision is delayed for ten days,” said Patty, laughing at Ken’s disappointed face. “We’ll let you know when you’re due, Ken. Don’t you worry.”

      “Need I worry?” asked Van Reypen, and then Hepworth said, “Need I?”

      “No, you needn’t any of you worry. But I’m not going to take anybody riding until I learn how to manage the frisky steed myself.”

      “But I can show you,” said Philip, insinuatingly.

      “So can I,” said Roger.

      “No, you can’t,” said Patty. “Miller is going to teach me, and then,—well, then, we’ll see about it.”

      And, with this somewhat unsatisfactory invitation to “The Pebbles,” they were forced to be content.

      After dinner, Kenneth remarked that it looked like a shower.

      “What do you mean?” asked Patty. “It’s a still, clear night.”

      “You come here, and I’ll show you,” said Kenneth, mysteriously. Then, taking Patty’s hand, he led her to a large davenport sofa, and seated her in the centre of it.

      “Now,” he said, “let it shower!”

      As if by magic, a half a dozen or more parcels of all shapes and sizes fell into Patty’s lap.

      “It’s a shower, for you!” explained Elise, dancing about in glee. “Open them!”

      “Oh! I see,” said Patty. “How gorgeous!”

      The parcels were in tissue paper, ribbon-tied, and Patty was not long in exposing their contents. One and all, they were gifts selected with reference to her new motor car.

      Elise gave her a most fetching blue silk hood, with quaint shirring, and draw-strings, and wide blue ribbon ties.

      Christine gave her a lovely motor-veil, of the newest style and flimsiest material.

      Roger gave her gauntleted motor-gloves, of new and correct make.

      Kenneth gave a motor-clock, of the most approved sort; and Philip Van Reypen presented a clever little “vanity case,” which shut up into small compass, but held many dainty toilette accessories.

      Mr. Hepworth’s gift was an exquisite flower vase, of gold and glass, to be attached to her new car.

      Patty was more than surprised; she was almost overcome by this “shower” of gifts, and she exclaimed:

      “You are the dearest people! And you needn’t wait for invitations. Come down to ‘The Pebbles’ whenever you want to, and I’ll take you all riding at once! I don’t see where you ever found such beautiful things! Nor why you gave them to me!”

      “Because we love

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