At eight o’clock that same evening, Patty came down to her own dinner party. An hour’s rest had freshened her up wonderfully, and she had changed her little white frock for a dinner gown of pale green chiffon, sparkling with silver embroidery. It trailed behind her in a most grown-up fashion, and she entered the drawing-room with an exaggerated air of dignity.

“Huh,” cried Roger; “look at grown-up Patty! Isn’t she the haughty lady? Patty, if you put on such airs, you’ll be old before your time!”

“Airs, nothing!” retorted Patty, and with a skipping little dance step, she crossed the room, picked up a sofa pillow, and aimed it deftly at Roger, who caught it on the wing.

“That’s better,” he said. “We can’t have any of these grande dame airs. Now, who is the lucky man who is to take you out to dinner? Me?”

“No, not you,” and Patty looked at him, critically; “you won’t do, and neither will Kenneth, nor Phil Van Reypen, nor Mr. Hepworth.” She looked at them each in turn, and smiled so merrily that they could take no offence. “I think,” she said, “I shall select the best-looking and best-natured gentleman, and walk out with him.” Whereupon she tucked her arm through her father’s, and led the way to the dining-room, followed by the rest of the merry crowd.

The dinner was a beautiful one, for Nan had spared no pains or thought to make it worthy of the occasion. At the girls’ places were beautiful souvenirs, in the shape of fans of carved ivory with lace mounts, while the men received attractive stick-pins.

“Shall you feel like dancing after all this gaiety, Patty?” asked Van Reypen.

“Well, rather!” declared Patty. “Why, I’d feel like dancing if I’d been through a—civil war! I could scarcely keep still when the orchestra was playing this afternoon, and I’m crazy for to-night’s dance to begin.”

“Frivolous young person, very,” murmured Philip. “Never saw such devotion to the vain follies of life! However, since you’re determined to dance, will you honour me with the first one to-night?”

“Why, I don’t mind, if you don’t,” said Patty, dimpling at him.

“And give me the second,” said Kenneth and Roger simultaneously.

“I can’t do these sums in my head,” said Patty; “I’ll get all mixed up. Let’s wait till we get our dance orders, and fill them up, hit or miss.”

“You be the miss and I’ll try to make a hit,” said Philip.

“What waggery!” exclaimed Patty, shaking her head. “If you’re too clever, Philip, I can’t dance with you. When I dance, I keep my mind on my feet, not on my head.”

“That explains your good dancing,” said Mr. Hepworth, laughing. “Perhaps, if I could keep my mind on my feet, I could dance better.”

“Oh, you’re too highminded for such low levels,” laughed Patty, while Mona, who was rather practical, said, seriously, “Do you really think about your feet all the time you’re dancing, Patty?”

“No,” returned Patty; “sometimes I have to think about my partner’s feet, to keep out of the way of them.”

When they returned to the drawing-room, they found it had been cleared for the dance, and soon the evening guests began to arrive.

Patty again stood by Nan to receive them, and after greeting many people she knew, she was surprised to find herself confronted by a stranger. He was a thick-set, stockily-built man, several years older than most of Patty’s friends. He had black hair and eyes and a short black moustache and a round, heavy type of face. His black eyes were of the audacious sort, and he flashed a glance of admiration at Patty. Before she could speak, or even offer her hand, Mona sprang forward, saying, “Patty, this is my friend Mr. Lansing. I took the liberty of inviting him to your dance. Mrs. Fairfield, may I present Mr. Lansing?”

Patty was angry. This, of course, must be the man of whom Mr. Galbraith had spoken, and, aside from the fact that he seemed undesirable, Patty felt that Mona had no right to invite him without asking permission from her hostess.

But Nan knew nothing of all this, and she cordially greeted the stranger because he was a friend of Mona’s. Patty recovered her equilibrium sufficiently to say, “How do you do, Mr. Lansing?” in a non-committal sort of way, but she couldn’t refrain from giving Mona a side glance of reproof, to which, however, that young woman paid no attention.

In another moment Mona had drifted away, and had taken Mr. Lansing with her. Patty turned to speak to Nan about him, but just then some more guests arrived; and then the dancing began, and Patty had no further opportunity.

As Patty had promised, she gave the first dance to Philip Van Reypen; and after that she was fairly besieged by would-be partners. The fact that she was hostess at her own coming-out ball, the fact that she danced beautifully, and the fact that she was so pretty and charming, all combined to make her, as was not unusual, the most popular girl present.

“Anything left for me?” asked Roger, gaily, as he threaded the crowds at Patty’s side.

“I saved one for you,” said Patty, smiling at him; “for I hoped you’d ask me, sooner or later.”

Roger gratefully accepted the dance Patty had saved for him, and soon after he came to claim her for it.

“I say, Patty,” he began when they were whirling about the floor, “who is that stuff Mona has trailing after her?”

“Moderate your language, Roger,” said Patty, smiling up at him, and noticing that his expression was very wrathy indeed.

“He doesn’t deserve moderate language! He’s a bounder, if I ever saw one! What’s he doing here?”

“He seems to be dancing,” said Patty, demurely, “and he doesn’t dance half badly, either.”

“Oh, stop your fooling, Patty; I’m not in the mood for it. Tell me who he is.”

Patty had never known Roger to be so out of temper, and she resented his tone, which was almost rude. Now, for all her sweetness, Patty had a touch of perversity in her nature, and Roger had roused it. So she said: “I don’t know why you speak like that, Roger. He’s a friend of Mona’s, and lives at the Hotel Plaza, where she lives.”

“The fact that two people live in the same big hotel doesn’t give them the right to be friends,” growled Roger. “Who introduced them, anyhow?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure,” said Patty, her patience exhausted; “but Mr. Galbraith knows him, so it must be all right.”

Patty was not quite ingenuous in this speech, for she knew perfectly well, from what Mr. Galbraith had said to her, that it was not all right. But she was irritated by Roger’s demeanour, and perversely disagreed with him.

“Well, I don’t believe he’s all right; I don’t like his looks a bit, and, Patty, you know as well as I do, that the Galbraiths are not quite competent always to select the people best worth knowing.”

“Oh, what a fuss you are, Roger; and it’s hardly fair when you don’t know anything at all about Mr. Lansing.”

“Do you?”

“No,” and then Patty hesitated. She did know something,—she knew what Mr. Galbraith had told her. But she was not of a mind to tell this to Roger. “I only met him as I was introduced,” she said, “and Mona has never so much as even mentioned him to me.”

“Didn’t she ask you if she might bring him to-night?”

“No; I suppose, as an intimate friend, she didn’t think that necessary.”

“It was necessary, Patty, and you know it, if Mona doesn’t. Now, look here; you and I are Mona’s friends; and if there are any social matters that she isn’t quite familiar with, it’s up to us to help her out a little. And I, for one, don’t believe that man is the right sort for her to be acquainted with; and I’m going to find out about him.”

“Well, I’m sure I’m willing you should, Roger; but you needn’t make such a bluster about it.”

“I’m not making a bluster, Patty.”

“You are so!”

“I am not!”

And then they both realised that they were bickering like two children, and they laughed simultaneously as they swept on round the dancing-room. The music stopped just then, and as they were near a window-seat, Patty sat down for a moment. “You go on, Roger,” she said, “and hunt up your next partner, or fight a duel with Mr. Lansing, or do whatever amuses you. My partner will come to hunt me up, I’m sure, and I’ll just wait here.”

“Who is your next partner, Patty?”

“Haven’t looked at my card; but, never mind, he’ll come. You run along.”

As Roger’s next partner was Mona, and as he was anxious to talk to her about her new friend, Roger obeyed Patty’s bidding and strolled away.

Patty sat alone for a moment, knowing full well who was her next partner, and then Mr. Lansing appeared and made a low bow before her.

Now, Patty had not chosen to express to Roger her real opinion of this new man, but in reality she did not approve of him. Though fairly good-looking and correctly dressed, there was about him a certain something—or perhaps, rather, he lacked a certain something that invariably stamps the well-bred man. He stared at Patty a trifle too freely; he sat down beside her with a little too much informality; and he began conversation a little too familiarly. All of these things Patty saw and resented, but as hostess she could not, of course, be openly rude.

“Nice, jolly rooms you’ve got here for a party,” Mr. Lansing remarked, rolling his eyes about appreciatively, “and a jolly lot of people, too. Some class to ’em!”

Patty looked at him coldly. She was not accustomed to this style of expression. Her friends perhaps occasionally used a slang word or term, but it was done in a spirit of gaiety or as a jest, whereas this man used his expressions as formal conversation.

“Yes, I have many kind and delightful friends,” said Patty, a little stiffly.

“You sure have! Rich, too, most of ’em.”

Patty made no response to this, and Mr. Lansing turned suddenly to look at her. “I say, Miss Fairfield, do you know what I think? I think you are prejudiced against me, and I think somebody put you up to it, and I think I know who. Now, look here, won’t you give me a fair show? Do you think it’s just to judge a man by what other people say about him?”

“How do you know I’ve heard anything about you, Mr. Lansing?”

“Well, you give me the icy glare before I’ve said half a dozen words to you! So, take it from me, somebody’s been putting you wise to my defects.”

He wagged his head so sagaciously at this speech, that Patty was forced to smile. On a sudden impulse, she decided to speak frankly. “Suppose I tell you the truth, Mr. Lansing, that I’m not accustomed to being addressed in such—well, in such slangy terms.”

“Oh, is that it? Pooh, I’ll bet those chums of yours talk slang to you once in a while.”

“What my chums may do is no criterion for an absolute stranger,”—and now Patty spoke very haughtily indeed.

“That’s so, Miss Fairfield; you’re dead right,—and I apologise. But, truly, it’s a habit with me. I’m from Chicago, and I believe people use more slang out there.”

“The best Chicago people don’t,” said Patty, seriously.

Mr. Lansing smiled at her, a trifle whimsically.

“I’m afraid I don’t class up with the best people,” he confessed; “but if it will please you better, I’ll cut out the slang. Shall we have a turn at this two-step?”

Patty rose without a word, and in a moment they were circling the floor. Mr. Lansing was a good dancer, and especially skilful in guiding his partner. Patty, herself such an expert dancer, was peculiarly sensitive to the good points of a partner, and she enjoyed the dance with Mr. Lansing, even though she felt she did not like the man. And yet he had a certain fascination in his manner, and when the dance was over, Patty looked at him with kinder eyes than she had when they began. But all that he had won of her favour he lost by his final speech, for as the dance ended, he said, brusquely: “Now, I’ll tumble you into a seat, and chase my next victim.”

Patty stood looking after him, almost moved to laughter at what he had said, and yet indignant that a man, and a comparative stranger, should address her thus.

“What’s the matter, Lady Fair?” and Philip Van Reypen came up to her. “Methinks thou hast a ruffled brow.”

“No, it’s my frock that’s ruffled,” said Patty, demurely. “You men know so little of millinery!”

“That’s true enough, and if you will smile again, I’ll drop the subject of ruffles. And now for my errand; will you go out to supper with me?”

“Goodness, is it supper time? I thought the evening had scarcely begun!”

“Alas! look at the programme,” and Van Reypen showed her that it was, indeed, time for intermission.

“Intermission is French for supper,” he said, gravely, “and I’d like to know if you’d rather sit on the stairs in good old orthodox party fashion, or if you’d rather go to the dining-room in state?”

“Who are on the stairs?”

“I shall be, if you are. You don’t want to know more than that, do you?” The young man’s gaze was so reproachful that Patty giggled.

“You are a great factor in my happiness, Mr. Van Reypen,” she said, saucily; “but you are not all the world to me! So, if I flock on the stairs with you, I must know what other doves will be perching there.”

“Oh, doves!” in a tone of great relief. “I thought you wanted to know what men you would find there,—you inveterate coquette, you! Well, Elise is there waiting for you, and Miss Farley.”

“And Mona Galbraith?”

“I don’t know; I didn’t see Miss Galbraith. But if you will go with me, I will accumulate for you any young ladies you desire.”

“And any men?”

“The men I shall have to fight off, not invite!”

Laughing at each other’s chaff, they sauntered across to the hall and found the stairs already pretty well occupied.

“Why is it,” Mr. Hepworth was saying, “that you young people prefer the stairs to the nice, comfortable seats at little tables in the dining-room?”

“Habit,” said Patty, laughing, as she made her way up a few steps; “I’ve always eaten my party suppers on the stairs, and I dare say I always shall. When I build a house I shall have a great, broad staircase, like they have in palaces, and then everybody can eat on the stairs.”

“I’m going to give a party,” announced Van Reypen, “and it’s going to be in the new Pennsylvania Station. There are enormous staircases there.”

“All right, I’ll come to it,” said Patty, and then Mona and Mr. Lansing came strolling along the hall, and demanded room on the stairs also.

“Seats all taken,” declared Roger, who had had a real tiff with Mona on the subject of her new friend. The others, too, did not seem to welcome Mr. Lansing, and though one or two moved slightly, they did not make room for the newcomers.

Patty was uncertain what she ought to do. She remembered what Mr. Galbraith had said, and she felt that to send Mona and Mr. Lansing away would be to throw them more exclusively in each other’s society; and she thought that Mr. Galbraith meant for her to keep Mona under her own eye as much as possible. But to call the pair upon the stairs and make room for them would annoy, she felt sure, the rest of the group.

She looked at Roger and at Philip Van Reypen, and both of them gave her an eloquent glance of appeal not to add to their party. Then she chanced to glance at Mr. Hepworth and found him smiling at her. She thought she knew what he meant, and immediately she said, “Come up here by me, Mona; and you come too, Mr. Lansing. We can make room easily if we move about a little.”

There was considerable moving about, and finally Patty found herself at the top of the group with Mona and Mr. Lansing. Christine and Mr. Hepworth were directly below them, and then Elise and Kenneth.

Mr. Van Reypen and Roger Farrington declared their intention of making a raid on the dining-room and kidnapping waiters with trays of supplies. On their return the supper plates were passed up to those on the stairs, and Van Reypen and Roger calmly walked away.

Patty knew perfectly well what they meant. They intended her to understand that if she and Mona persisted in cultivating the acquaintance of the man they considered objectionable, they did not care to be of the party.

“Which is perfectly ridiculous!” said Patty to herself, as she realised the state of things. “Those boys needn’t think they can dictate to me at my own party!”

Whereupon, perverse Patty began to make herself extremely and especially agreeable to Mr. Lansing, and Mona was greatly delighted at the turn things had taken.

Christine and Mr. Hepworth joined in the conversation, and perhaps because of what Patty had said earlier in the evening, Mr. Lansing avoided to a great extent the use of slang expressions, and made himself really interesting and entertaining.

“What a fascinating man he is,” said Christine later, to Patty, when Mona and her new friend had walked away to the “extra” supper dance.

“Do you think so?” said Patty, looking at Christine in astonishment. “He was rather nicer than I thought him at first, but, Christine, I never dreamed you would approve of him! But you never can tell when a quiet little mouse like you is going to break loose. Why did you like him, Christine?”

“I don’t know exactly; only he seemed so breezy and unusual.”

“Yes, he’s that,” and Patty wagged her head, knowingly; “but I don’t like him very much, Christine, and you mustn’t, either. Now run away and play.”

Patty’s last direction was because she saw a young man coming to ask Christine for this dance; while two others were rapidly coming toward herself.

The rest of the evening was danced gaily away, but neither Roger nor Philip Van Reypen came near Patty. To be sure, she had plenty of partners, but she felt a little offended at her two friends’ attitude, for she knew she hadn’t really deserved it.

But when the dance was over, Patty’s good-nights to Roger and Philip were quite as gentle and cordial as those she said to any one else. She smiled her best smiles at them, and though not as responsive as usual, they made polite adieux and departed with no further reference to the troublesome matter.