Before her mirror, Patty was putting the last touches to her Bo-Peep costume, and it must be confessed she was viewing the effect with admiration.

The gilt-framed glass gave back a lovely picture. The costume was one of the prettiest Patty had ever worn, and was exceedingly becoming. There was a short, quilted skirt of white satin and a panniered overdress of gay, flowered silk, caught up with blue bows. A little laced bodice and white chemisette completed the dress. Then there was a broad-leafed shepherdess hat, trimmed with flowers, and under this Patty’s gold curls were bunched up on either side and tied with blue ribbons. She wore high-heeled, buckled slippers, and carried a long, white crook, trimmed with blossoms and fluttering ribbons.

She pranced and turned in front of the mirror, decidedly satisfied with the whole effect. Then she caught up her basket of flowers, which she carried because it added a pretty touch, and went downstairs.

It was a gay-looking party that waited for her in the hall. The two Misses Crosby had been there to dinner, and also Mr. Hoyt and Mr. Collins, and these, with the house party, were now all arrayed in their fancy dress. As they had agreed on Christmas Day, they were all in pairs, and as of course there could be no secrecy among them, they had not yet put on their masks.

Mona and Roger were very magnificent as Queen Elizabeth and Sir Walter Raleigh. Though Mona was not at all the type of the red-haired queen, she looked very handsome in the regal robes and great, flaring collar, while Roger was a veritable courtier in his picturesque garb.

Daisy and Mr. Collins were Pierrette and Pierrot. Their costumes were black and white, Frenchy-looking affairs, with tossing pompons and peaked caps.

The elder Miss Crosby and Jim Kenerley were Indians; and the warlike brave and the young Indian maiden looked as if they might have stepped out of the earliest pages of our country’s history.

The other Miss Crosby and Hal Ferris were Italian peasants in national costume.

AdÈle and Mr. Hoyt were the most simply dressed of all, but in their plain Puritan garb they were effective and distinguished looking.

Perhaps, however, it was Philip Van Reypen whose costume received the greatest applause. He had copied a picture of Bobby Shafto that had been painted by a frivolous-minded artist, and his embroidered and belaced coat of light blue silk was remindful of the period of the gayest Louis. He wore white satin knee-breeches, white silk stockings, and black slippers with enormous buckles. In accordance with the song, there were large silver buckles at his knees; and his tri-corne hat was a very marvel of gold lace and feathers. Full lace ruffles flapped at his throat and wrists, and altogether he was an absolute dandy.

“You look like a valentine,” said Patty, “or a birthday cake.”

“You do look good enough to eat,” declared AdÈle, as she took in the gorgeous costume.

“Yes, I flatter myself it’s the very last touch of Shaftoism,” said Philip, strutting about with an affected gait. “I say, Patty, you’re all kinds of a peach yourself.”

“Yes, this frock is all right,” said Patty, “but you simply take my breath away, Phil. I didn’t know anybody could look so beautiful! I wish men dressed that way nowadays.”

And then everybody admired everybody else until it was time to start. Then each put on a little mask, which they were to wear at the ball until supper-time. Patty’s was of light blue silk with a short fall of lace, and Philip’s was of black satin.

“I can’t wear this thing all the way there,” declared Patty, taking hers off again.

“Well, put it on just before you get there,” enjoined AdÈle. “I’ve taken great care that no one should know a word about our costumes, and now if we are well masked they won’t be able to guess who we are. Even though they know we all came from our house, there are so many of us, they can’t tell us apart.”

The Country Club was a handsome, spacious building, well away from the outskirts of the town. But the motors took them there swiftly, and soon they joined the large party of maskers in the Club ballroom. There were perhaps a hundred people there, and Patty felt there was little risk of being recognised. She did not know many of the Fern Falls people, anyway, and they would scarcely know her in her disguise.

“Of course the first dance is mine,” said Philip, as the music began.

But after that dance was over, Patty was besieged by would-be partners. Historical characters, foreigners, clowns, monks, and knights in armour begged for dances with Little Bo-Peep. Patty was so engrossed in looking at these wonderful personages, that she scarcely noticed who put their names on her card. And in truth it made little difference, as none of the men put their real names, and she hadn’t the slightest idea who they were.

“Help yourselves,” she said, laughing, “to the dances before supper; but don’t touch the other side of the card. After the masks are off, I shall have some say, myself, as to my partners!”

So the first half of the dances were variously signed for by Columbus and Aladdin and Brother Sebastian and Jack Pudding and other such names.

During each dance Patty would try to discover the identity of her partner, but as she only succeeded in one or two cases, she gave it up.

“For it doesn’t make the slightest difference who you are,” she said, as she danced with Brother Sebastian, who was garbed as a Friar of Orders Grey.

“No,” he returned, in a hollow, sepulchral voice, which he seemed to think suited to his monk’s attire.

“And you needn’t try to disguise your voice so desperately,” said Patty, laughing gaily, “for probably I don’t know you, anyhow. And you don’t know me, do you?”

“I don’t know your name,” said the monk, still in hollow tones, “but I know you’re a dancer from the professional stage, and not just a young woman in private life.”

“Good gracious!” cried Patty, horrified. “I’m nothing of the sort! I’m a simple-minded little country girl, and I dance because I can’t help it. I love to dance, but I must say that a monk’s robe on one’s partner is a little troublesome. I think all the time I’m going to trip on it.”

“Oh, all right; I’ll fix that,” said the monk, and he held up the skirts of his long robe until they cleared the floor.

“That’s better,” said Patty, “but it does spoil the picturesqueness of your costume. Let’s promenade for a while, and then you can let your robes drag in proper monkian fashion.”

“Much obliged to you for not saying monkey fashion! I certainly do feel foolish, dressed up in this rig.”

“Why, you ought not to, in that plain gown. Just look at the things some of the men have on!”

“I know it. Look at that court jester; he must feel a fool!”

“But that’s his part,” laughed Patty; “rather clever, I think, to dress as a fool, and then if you feel like a fool, you’re right in your part.”

“I say, Miss Bo-Peep, you’re clever, aren’t you?”

“Not so very; but when talking to a learned monk, I try to be as wise as I can. Oh, look at that stunning big man,—who is he?”

“Looks like one of the patriarchs; but I guess he’s meant for King Lear. See the wreath of flowers on his white hair.”

“Did Lear wear flowers? I thought he wore a crown.”

“Tut! tut! Little Bo-Peep, you must brush up your Shakespeare. Don’t you know King Lear became a little troubled in his head, and adorned himself with a garland?”

“Well, he’s awfully picturesque,” said Patty, quite undisturbed by her ignorance of the play, and looking admiringly at Lear’s magnificent court robes of velvet and ermine, and his long, flowing white hair and beard, and the garland of flowers that lay loosely on the glistening white wig and trailed down behind.

As they neared the picturesque figure, King Lear bowed low before Patty, and held out his hand for her dance card.

It was the rule of the ball not to speak, but to indicate invitations by gestures.

However, Patty had no reason to keep silent, as they were nearly all strangers, so she laughed, and spoke right out: “I’d gladly give you a dance, King Lear, but I haven’t one left.”

With another courtly bow, King Lear still seemed to insist on his wish, and he took up her card, which she had tied to her crook by a narrow ribbon. With surprise he saw the whole second page blank, and pointed to it with an accusing gesture.

“Ah, yes,” returned Patty, smiling, “but those are for my friends after I know them. We unmask at supper-time, and then I shall use some discrimination in bestowing my dances. If you want one of those you must ask me for it after supper.”

King Lear bowed submissively to Patty’s decree, and was about to move away, when a sudden thought struck him. He picked up Patty’s card again, and indicated a space between the last dance and the supper.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” cried Patty. “You mean an ‘extra.’ But I don’t think they’ll have any. And, anyway, I never engage for extras. If they do have one, and you happen to be around, I’ll give it to you;—that’s all I can say.” And then Patty’s next partner came, and she danced away with him, leaving King Lear making his sweeping, impressive bows.

“Who is he?” asked Patty, of Roger, who chanced to be her partner this time.

“Don’t know, I’m sure; but I know scarcely any of the people up here. They seem to be a fine crowd, though. Have you noticed the Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra? There she is now. Isn’t she stunning?”

Patty looked round, to see a tall, majestic woman, dressed as Zenobia. Her tiny mask hid only her eyes, and her beautiful, classic face well accorded with the character she had chosen.

“She’s beautiful!” declared Patty, with heartfelt admiration. “I wish I was big and stunning, Roger, instead of a little scrap of humanity.”

“What a silly you are, Patty Pink! Now, I’ve no doubt that tall, majestic-looking creature wishes she could be a little fairy, like you.”

“But a big woman is so much more graceful and dignified.”

“Patty, I do believe you’re fishing! And I know you’re talking nonsense! Dignified isn’t just the term I should apply to you,—but if there’s anybody more graceful than you are, I’ve yet to see her.”

“Oh, Roger, that’s dear of you. You know very well, I hate flattery or compliments, but when a real friend says a nice thing it does me good. And, truly, it’s the regret of my life, that I’m not about six inches taller. There, look at Zenobia now. She’s walking with that King Lear. Aren’t they a stunning couple?”

“Yes, they are. But if I were you, I wouldn’t be envious of other women’s attractions. You have quite enough of your own.”

“Never mind about me,” said Patty, suddenly realising that she was talking foolishly. “Let’s talk about Mona. She’s looking beautiful to-night, Roger.”

“She always does,” and Roger had a strange thrill in his voice, that struck a sympathetic chord in Patty’s heart.

“What about her, Roger? Isn’t she good to you?”

“Not very. She’s capricious, Patty; sometimes awfully kind, and then again she says things that cut deep. Patty, do you think she really cares for that Lansing man?”

“I don’t know, Roger. I can’t make Mona out at all, lately. She used to be so frank and open with me, and now she never talks confidences at all.”

“Well, I can’t understand her, either. But here comes Mr. Collins, looking for you, Patty. Is only half of this dance mine?”

“Yes, Roger. I had to chop up every one, to-night. You may have one after supper, if you like.”

Patty whirled through the various dances, and at the last one before supper she found herself again with Philip Van Reypen.

“Why, I didn’t know this was yours!” she cried, looking at her card, where, sure enough, she saw the initials B. S.

“It sure is mine,” returned Bobby Shafto; “but we’re not going to dance it.”

“Why not, and what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to wander away into the conservatory.”

“There isn’t any conservatory. This is a club-house, you know.”

“Well, they’ve fixed up the gymnasium, so it’s almost a conservatory. It’s full of palms and flowers and things, and it makes a perfectly good imitation.”

“But why do we go there?” asked Patty, as Philip led her away from the dancing-room.

“Oh, to settle affairs of state.” He led her to the gymnasium, and sure enough, tall palms and flowering plants had been arranged to form little nooks and bowers, which were evidently intended for tÊte-À-tÊte conversations.

“You know,” Philip began, as they found a pleasant seat, under some palms, “you know, Patty, you promised me something.”

“Didn’t, neither.”

“Yes, you did, and I’m going to hold you to your promise. You promised——”

“‘Rose, you promised!’” sang Patty, humming a foolish little song that was an old-fashioned favourite.

“Yes, you did promise, you exasperating little Rose, you! And I’m going to keep you prisoner here, until you make it good! Patty, you said you’d look into your heart, and tell me what you found there.”

“Goodness me, Philip, did I really say that? Well, it will take me an awful long while to tell you all that’s in it.”

“Really, Patty? Did you find so much?”

“Yes, heaps of things.”

“But I mean about me.”

“Oh, about you! Why, I don’t know that there’s anything there at all about you.”

“Oh, yes, there is; you can’t fool me that way. Now, Patty, do be serious. Look in your heart, and see if there isn’t a little love for me?”

Patty sat very still, and closed her eyes, as Philip could see through the holes in her blue mask.

Then she opened them, and said, with a smile: “I looked and hunted good, Philip, and I can’t find a bit of love for you. But there’s an awful big, nice, warm friendship, if you care about that.”

“I do care about that, Patty. I care very much for it, but I want more.”

Just at that moment King Lear and Zenobia strolled past them, and Patty almost forgot Philip as she gazed after the two majestic figures.

“Patty,” he said, recalling her attention, “Patty, dear, I say I want more.”

“Piggy-wig!” exclaimed Patty, with her blue eyes twinkling at him through the mask. “More what? I was looking at King Lear, and I lost the thread of your discourse, Philip.”

“Patty Fairfield, I’d like to shake you! Don’t you know what I’m asking of you?”

“Well, even if I do, I must say, Philip, that I can’t carry on a serious conversation with a mask on. Now, you know, they take these things off pretty soon, and then——”

“And then may I ask you again, Patty, and will you listen to me and answer me?”

“Dunno. I make no promises. Philip, this dance is over. I expect they’re going to unmask now. Come on, let’s go back to our crowd.”

But just as they rose to go, Jim Kenerley approached, and King Lear was with him.

“Little Bo-Peep,” said the big Indian, “King Lear tells me that you half promised him an extra, if there should be one.”

“As it was only half a promise, then it means only half a dance,” said Patty, turning her laughing blue eyes to the majestic, flower-crowned King. “Is there going to be an extra, Jim,—I mean Chief Mudjokivis, or whatever your Indian name is?”

“I don’t know, Bo-Peep. I’ll go and see.”

Jim went away, and as Philip had already gone, Patty was left alone with the white-haired King.

With a slow, majestic air, he touched her gently on the arm, and motioned for her to be seated. Then he sat down beside her, and through the eyeholes of his mask, he looked straight into her eyes.

At his intent gaze, Patty felt almost frightened, but as her eyes met his own, she became conscious of something familiar in the blue eyes that looked at her, and then she heard King Lear whisper, softly: “Apple Blossom!”

Patty fairly jumped; then, seeing the smile that came into his eyes, she put out both hands to King Lear, and said, gladly: “Bill! Little Billee! Oh, I am glad to see you!”

“Are you, really?” And Bill Farnsworth’s voice had a slight tremor in it. “Are you sure of that, my girl?”

“Of course I am,” and Patty had regained her gay demeanour, which she had lost in her moment of intense surprise. “Oh, of course I am! I was so sorry to have missed you last week. And Jim said you went back to Arizona.”

“I did expect to, but I was detained in New York, and only this morning I found I could run up here and stay till to-morrow. I couldn’t get here earlier, and when I reached the house, you had all started. So I got into these togs, and came along.”

“Your togs are wonderful, Little Billee. I never saw you look so stunning, not even as Father Neptune.”

“That was a great show, wasn’t it?” and Big Bill smiled at the recollection. “But I say, Little Girl, you’re looking rather wonderful yourself to-night. Oh, Patty, it’s good to see you again!”

“And it’s good to see you; though it doesn’t seem as if I had really seen you. That mask and beard completely cover up your noble countenance.”

“And I wish you’d take off that dinky little scrap of blue, so I can see if you are still my Apple Blossom Girl.”

“But I thought you wanted the extra dance.”

“I don’t believe there’s going to be any extra, after all. I think the people are anxious to get their masks off, and if so we’ll have our dance after supper.”