After the sixth dance was over, Patty asked her partner to bring Mr. Everson to her, and then she awaited his coming on a little sofa in an alcove.

If Eugene Everson was surprised at the summons, he did not show it, but advanced courteously, and took a seat by Patty’s side. He had a dance engaged with her much later in the evening, so Patty said, pleasantly:

“Mr. Everson, don’t think my request strange, but won’t you exchange our later dance for this number seven?”

“I would gladly, Miss Fairfield, but I’m engaged for this.”

“Yes, I know,” and Patty favoured him with one of her most bewitching smiles; “but the lady is Miss Galbraith, as I happen to know, and Miss Galbraith is a very dear friend of mine, and,—oh, well, it’s a matter of ‘first aid to the injured.’ I don’t want to tell you all about it, Mr. Everson, but the truth is, I want Miss Galbraith to dance this number with another man,—because,—because——”

It was not quite so easy as Patty had anticipated. She didn’t want to go so far as to explain the real situation, and she became suddenly aware that she was somewhat embarrassed. Her face flushed rosy pink, and she cast an appealing glance from her violet-blue eyes into the amused face of the man beside her.

“I haven’t an idea of what it is all about, Miss Fairfield, but please consider me entirely at the orders of yourself and Miss Galbraith. A man at a party is at best but a puppet to dance at the bidding of any fair lady. And what better fortune could I ask than to be allowed to obey your decree?”

Patty was greatly relieved when he took the matter thus lightly. In whimsical conversation she was on her own ground, and she responded gaily: “Let it remain a mystery, then; and obey as a noble knight a lady’s decree. Dance with me, and trust it to me that Miss Galbraith is also obeying a decree of mine.”

“For a small person, you seem to issue decrees of surprising number and rapidity,” and Everson, who was a large man, looked down at Patty with an air of amusement.

“Yes, sir,” said Patty, demurely, “I’m accustomed to it. Decrees are my strong point. I issue them ’most all the time.”

“And are they always obeyed?”

“Alas, noble sir, not always. Though I’m not sure that your question is as flattering as the remarks most young men make to me.”

“Perhaps not. But when you know me better, Miss Fairfield, you’ll find out that I’m very different from the common herd.”

“Really? How interesting! I hope I shall know you better very soon, for I adore unusual people.”

“And do unusual people adore you?”

“I can’t tell; I’ve never met one before,” and after the briefest of saucy glances, Patty dropped her eyes demurely.

“Aren’t you one yourself?”

“Oh, no!” And Patty looked up with an air of greatest surprise; “I’m just a plain little every-day girl.”

“You’re a plain little coquette, that’s what you are!”

“You are indeed unusual, sir, to call me plain!” and Patty looked about as indignant as an angry kitten.

“Perhaps, when I know you better, I may change my opinion of your plainness. Will you dance now?”

The music had been playing for some moments, and signifying her assent, Patty rose, and they joined the dancers who were circling the floor. Mr. Everson was a fine dancer, but he was all unprepared for Patty’s exquisite perfection in the art.

“Why, Miss Fairfield,” he said, unable to suppress his admiration, “I didn’t know anybody danced like you, except professionals.”

“Oh, yes, I’m a good dancer,” said Patty, carelessly; “and so are you, for that matter. Do you think they’ve made up?”

“Who?”

“Miss Galbraith and Mr. Farrington. See, we’re just passing them. Oh, I’m afraid they haven’t!”

It was difficult to judge by the glance they obtained in passing, but Patty declared that both Mona’s and Roger’s faces looked like thunder clouds.

“Give them a little longer,” said Mr. Everson, who began to see how matters stood.

“Perhaps another round, and we will find them smiling into each other’s eyes.”

But when they next circled the long room, Mona and Roger were nowhere to be seen.

“Aha,” said Everson, “the conservatory for theirs! It must be all right! Shall we trail ’em?”

“Yes,” said Patty. “I don’t care if they see us. Let’s walk through the conservatory.”

They did so, and spied Mona and Roger sitting under a group of palms, engaged in earnest conversation. They were not smiling, but they were talking very seriously, with no indication of quarrelling.

“I guess it’s all right,” said Patty, with a little sigh. “It’s awfully nice to have friends, Mr. Everson, but sometimes they’re a great care; aren’t they?”

“If you’ll let me be your friend, Miss Fairfield, I’ll promise never to be a care, and I’ll help you to care for your other cares.”

“Goodness, what a complicated offer! If I could straighten all those cares you speak of, I might decide to take you as a friend. I think I will, anyway,—you were so nice about giving me this dance.”

“I was only too delighted to do so, Miss Fairfield.”

“Thank you. You know it is in place of our other one, number sixteen.”

“Oh, we must have that also.”

“No, it was a fair exchange. You can get another partner for sixteen.”

“But I don’t want to. If you throw me over, I shall sit in a corner and mope.”

“Oh, don’t do that! Well, I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you half of sixteen, and you can mope the other half.”

And then Patty’s next partner claimed her, and Mr. Everson went away.

Having done all she could in the matter of conciliating Mona and Roger, Patty bethought herself of her own little tiff with Philip Van Reypen. It did not bother her much, for she had little doubt that she could soon cajole him back to friendship, and she assured herself that if she couldn’t, she didn’t care.

And so, when he came to claim his dance, which was the last before supper, Patty met him with an air of cool politeness, which greatly irritated the Van Reypen pride.

He had thought, had even hoped, Patty would be humble and repentant, but she showed no such attitude, and the young man was slightly at a loss as to what manner to assume, himself.

But he followed her lead, and with punctilious courtesy asked her to dance, and they stepped out on to the floor.

For a few rounds they danced in silence, and then Philip said, in a perfunctory way: “You’re enjoying this party?”

“I have been, up to this dance,” and Patty smiled pleasantly, as she spoke.

“And you’re not enjoying yourself now?” Philip said, suppressing his desire to shake her.

“Oh, no, sir!” and Patty looked at him with big, round eyes.

“Why not?”

“I don’t like to dance with a man who doesn’t like me.”

“I do like you, you silly child.”

“Oh, no, you don’t, either! and I’m not a silly child.”

“And you’re not enjoying this dance with me?”

“Not a bit!”

“Then there’s no use going on with it,” and releasing her, Philip tucked one of her hands through his arm, and calmly marched her into the conservatory. The seat under the palms was vacant, and as she took her place in one corner of it, he poked one or two cushions deftly behind her back and made her entirely comfortable. Then he sat down beside her.

“Now,” he commanded, “say you’re sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you carried on with that horrid man and spoiled our friendship.”

“Didn’t carry on, and he isn’t a horrid man, and our friendship isn’t spoiled, and I’m not sorry.”

“Not sorry that our friendship isn’t spoiled?”

“No; ’course I’m not! You don’t s’pose I want it to be spoiled, do you?”

“Well, you certainly did all in your power to spoil it.”

“Now, look here, Philip Van Reypen, I’ve already exhausted myself this evening patching up one spoiled friendship, and it’s just about worn me out! Now if ours needs any patching up, you’ll have to do it yourself. I shan’t raise a finger toward it!”

Patty leaned back among her pillows, looking lovely and provoking. She tried to scowl at him, but her dimples broke through the scowl and turned it into a smile. Whereupon, she dropped her eyes, and tried to assume a look of bored indifference.

Van Reypen looked at her. “So she won’t raise a finger, won’t she? And I’ve got to do it myself, have I? Well, then, I suppose I’ll have to raise her finger for her.” Patty’s hand was lying idly in her lap, and he picked up her slender pink forefinger slowly, and with an abstracted air. “I don’t know how raising a finger helps to patch up a spoiled friendship,” he went on, as if to himself, “but she seems to think it does, and so, of course, it does! Well, now, mademoiselle, your finger is raised,—is our quarrel all patched up?”

Philip held her finger in one hand, and clasped her whole hand with the other, as he smiled into her eyes, awaiting an answer to his question.

Patty looked up suddenly, and quickly drew her hand away.

“Unhand me, villain!” she laughed, “and don’t bother about our friendship! I’m not worrying over it.”

“You needn’t, little girl,” and Philip’s voice rang true. “Nothing can ever shake it! And I apologise for my foolish anger. If you want to affect the society of men I don’t like,—of course I’ve no right to say a word, and I won’t. At any rate, not now, for I don’t want to spoil this blessed making-up with even a thought of anything unpleasant.”

“Now, that’s real nice of you, Philip,” and Patty fairly beamed at him. “It’s so nice to be friends again, after being near-not-friends!”

“Yes, milady, and you made up just in time. Aunty Van is having an opera party to-morrow night, and she wants you to go.”

“Are you going?” and Patty put her fingertip in her mouth, and looked babyishly at him.

“Oh, don’t let that influence you. Decide for yourself.”

“Well, since you don’t care whether I go or not, I believe I won’t go.”

“Foolish child! Of course you’ll go. And then, as you know very well, wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

“How do wild horses keep people away? They must be trained to do it. And then, they’re not wild horses any more.”

“What foolishness you do talk! Well, will you go to the opera with us?”

“Yes, and thank you kindly, sir. Or, rather, I thank your august aunt for the invitation.”

“No, thank me. As a matter of fact, I made up the party. So it’s really mine, though I accept Aunty Van’s box for the occasion.”

“’Tis well, fair sir. I thank thee greatly. What may I do for thee in return?”

Patty clasped her hands and looked a pretty suppliant, begging a favour.

“Give me half a dozen more dances,” replied Philip, taking her card to look at.

“Not one left,” said Patty, calmly.

“And most of them halves!” exclaimed Philip. “What a belle you are, Patty!”

“All the girls are,” she returned, carelessly, which, however, was not quite true. “But I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll give you half of number sixteen. That’s Mr. Everson’s, but I’ll divide it. I told him I should.”

“You little witch! Did you save it for me?”

“M—m——,” and Patty slowly wagged her head up and down.

“That was dear of you! But don’t you think for a minute that’s all I’m going to have! There’ll be an extra or two, and I claim them all!”

“Hear the man talk!” exclaimed Patty. “Why, I do believe they’re beginning an extra now! Mr. Van Reypen, won’t you dance it with me?” Patty jumped up and stood before him, lightly swaying in time to the music.

Philip sat looking at her, entranced by the pretty vision; and even before he could rise, Kenneth Harper came to Patty, and obeying a sudden coquettish impulse, she put her hand lightly on Kenneth’s shoulder and they danced away.

Philip Van Reypen sat looking after them, smiling.

“What a transparent child she is,” he thought to himself. “Her pretty little coquetries are like the gambols of a kitten. Now, she thinks I’m going to be annoyed at losing this dance with her. Well,—I am,—but I don’t propose to quarrel with her about it.”

And then Patty and Kenneth came dancing back again; and Patty calmly told Mr. Van Reypen it was his turn now.

Philip took her hand and they started off, and when that dance was finished it was supper-time.

As usual, Patty and her most especial friends grouped in some pleasant corner for supper. But, looking about, she missed a familiar face.

“Where is Christine Farley?” she said. “She always has supper with us. Do you know where she is, Mr. Hepworth?”

Gilbert Hepworth drew near Patty, and spoke in a low voice: “I think she has gone to the dressing-room,” he said. “I wish you’d go up and see her, Patty.”

A little startled at his serious face, Patty ran upstairs, to Elise’s room, where she had taken off her wraps.

There was Christine, who had thrown herself on a couch, and buried her face in the pillows.

“Why, Christine, what is the matter, dear?” and Patty laid her hand gently on Christine’s hair.

“Oh, Patty, don’t speak to me! I am not fit to have you touch me!”

“Good gracious, Christine, what do you mean?” and Patty began to think her friend had suddenly lost her mind.

“I’m a bad, wicked girl! You were my friend, and now I’ve done an awful, dreadful thing! But, truly, truly, Patty, I didn’t mean to!”

“Christine Farley, stop this foolishness! Sit up here this minute, and tell me what you’re talking about! I believe you’re crazy.”

Christine sat up, her pale hair falling from its bands, and her eyes full of tears.

“I’ve—I’ve—stolen——” she began.

“Oh, you goose! do go on! What have you stolen? A pin from Elise’s pin cushion,—or some powder from her puff-box? Another dab on your nose would greatly improve your appearance,—if you ask me! It’s as red as a beet!”

“Patty, don’t giggle! I’m serious. Oh, Patty, Patty, do forgive me!”

“I’ll forgive you anything, if you’ll tell me what’s the matter, and convince me that you haven’t lost your mind. Now, Christine, don’t you dare ask me to forgive you again, until you tell me what for!”

“Well, you see, you were away all summer.”

“Yes, so I was,” agreed Patty, in bewilderment.

“And you have been so busy socially this fall and winter, I haven’t seen much of you.”

“No,” agreed Patty, still more deeply mystified.

“And—and—Gil—Mr. Hepworth hasn’t either——”

“Oh!” cried Patty, a great light breaking in upon her; “oh,—oh!—OH!! Christine, do you mean it? Oh, how perfectly lovely! I’m so glad!”

“You’re glad?” and Christine opened her eyes in amazement.

“Why, of course I’m glad, you silly! Did you think I wanted him? Oh, you Blessed Goose!”

“Oh, Patty, I’m so relieved. You see, I thought you looked upon him as your especial property. I know he cared a lot for you,—he still does. But——”

“But he and I are about as well suited as chalk and cheese! Whereas, he’s just the one for you! Oh, Christine, darling, I’m delighted! May I tell? Can we announce it to-night?”

“Oh, no! You see, he just told me to-night. And I felt guilty at once. I knew I had stolen him from you.”

“Oh, Christine, don’t! Don’t say such things! He wasn’t mine to steal. We’ve always been friends, but I never cared for him that way.”

“That’s what he said; but I felt guilty all the same.”

“Well, stop it, right now! Mr. Hepworth is lovely; he’s one of the best friends I ever had, and if I have any claim on his interest or affection, I’m only too glad to hand it over to you. Now, brace up, powder your nose, and come down to supper. And you needn’t think you can keep this thing secret! I won’t tell,—but your two faces will give it away at once. Don’t blame me if people guess it!”

“Don’t let them, Patty; not to-night. Keep me by you, and right after supper I’ll go home.”

“All right, girlie; just as you like. But don’t look at G. H. or you’ll betray your own dear little heart.”

However, they reckoned without the other interested party.

When the two girls came downstairs, smiling, and with their arms about each other, Mr. Hepworth went to meet them, and drew Christine’s arm through his own with an unmistakable air of proprietorship. Christine’s blushes, and Patty’s smiles, confirmed Hepworth’s attitude, and a shout of understanding went up from their group of intimates.

“Yes, it’s so,” said Patty; “but I promised Christine I wouldn’t tell!”

And then there were congratulations and good wishes from everybody, and the pretty little Southern girl was quite overcome at being so suddenly the centre of attraction.

“It’s perfectly lovely,” said Patty, holding out her hand to Hepworth, “and I’m as glad for you as I can be,—and for Christine, too.”

“Thank you, Patty,” he returned, and for a moment he held her eyes with his own. Then he said, “Thank you,” again, and turned away.