Farnsworth was right. There was no extra before supper, and the guests were even now flocking to the supper-room.

Philip came toward them, looking for Patty, his mask already off.

“Oh, can we really take them off now?” cried Patty. “I’m so glad. They’re horridly uncomfortable. I’ll never wear one again. I love a fancy dress party, but I don’t see any sense in a masquerade.”

She took off her mask as she spoke, and her pretty face was flushed pink and her hair was curling in moist ringlets about her temples.

Farnsworth looked down on her as he removed his own mask. “Apple Blossom!” he exclaimed again, and the comparison was very apt, for the pink and white of Patty’s face was just the color of the blossoms.

Then the two men looked at each other, and Patty suddenly realised that they had never met.

“Oh, you don’t know each other, do you?” she exclaimed. “And you my two best friends! Mr. Farnsworth, this is Mr. Van Reypen. And now, which of you is going to take me to supper?”

As each offered an arm at once, Patty accepted both, and walked out demurely between the two big men. The men were exceedingly polite and courteous, but each was annoyed at the other’s presence. As a matter of fact, Farnsworth had chanced to overhear a few words that Philip said to Patty a short time before. It was by merest chance that King Lear and Zenobia had walked by just as Philip was asking Patty to give him more than friendship. Zenobia, uninterested in the two under the palms, didn’t even hear the words; but Farnsworth, who had found out from Jim Kenerley all the members of the house party, had scarcely taken his eyes from Little Bo-Peep since he arrived at the ball. With no intention of eavesdropping, he had followed her about, hoping to get a chance to see her first alone. He managed this only with Kenerley’s help, and meantime he had discovered that Van Reypen was very seriously interested in Little Bo-Peep.

Philip himself knew little of Farnsworth, save for a few chance remarks he had heard at the Kenerleys’, but he realised at once that Patty and the big Westerner were great friends, if nothing more.

However, the three went to supper together, and joined the group in which they were most interested.

Great was the surprise of Daisy and Mona when Patty appeared with Mr. Farnsworth.

Big Bill was in the merriest of spirits. He greeted everybody heartily, he joked and laughed, and was at his most entertaining best. Patty was very proud of him, for without his mask he looked very handsome as King Lear, and his stalwart figure seemed to dwarf the other men.

After supper he claimed Patty for the promised dance.

“Would you rather dance with King Lear?” he said, smiling, “with all these heavy velvet draperies bothering us, or shall I go and shed this robe, and just be plain Bill?”

Patty looked at him, thoughtfully. “We’d have a better dance if you took off that flapping robe. But then, of course, you’d have to take off your wigs and things, and you wouldn’t be half so beautiful.”

“Well, then, don’t let’s dance, but just stroll around and talk. And there’s another reason why I’d rather keep on my wig and wreath.”

“What’s that?”

“Because the wreath means that I am mad.”

“Mad at me?”

“Oh, not that kind of mad! I mean crazy, demented, loony,—what was the old King, anyway?”

“A little touched?”

“Yes, that’s it; and so, you see, he could say anything he wanted to. You know, people forgive crazy people, no matter what they say.”

“Are you going to say crazy things to me?”

“Very likely; you’ve completely turned my head.”

“Do you know, I didn’t even know King Lear ever went crazy,” said Patty in an endeavour to change the subject.

“Why, fie, fie, Little Girl, I thought you knew your Shakespeare; but I suppose you’re too busy socially to read much poetry.”

“I read one poem this winter that I liked,” said Patty, demurely.

“Did you? What was it?”

“It came to me in a blue envelope.”

“It did! Why, Patty, Jim told me you never got that.”

“Jim is mistaken; I did get it.”

“And did you like it?”

“Where did you get it, Bill?”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes, I liked it lots. Who wrote it?”

“I did.”

“Did you, really? You clever man! I thought possibly you might have done it, but it sounded so,—so finished.”

“Oh, no, it didn’t, Patty. It was crude and amateurish; but it was written to you and about you, so I did the best I could. Patty, are you in love with Van Reypen?”

“What!” and Patty stood still and looked at Farnsworth, indignantly. “You have no right to ask such a question!”

“I know I haven’t, Patty, and I apologise. I can’t seem to get over my Western bluntness. And, Little Girl, I don’t blame you a bit if you do care for him. He’s a good-looking chap, and an all-round good man.”

“You seem to have sized him up pretty quickly. Why, you’ve only just met him.”

“Yes, but you know I was at the Kenerleys’ last week, and Jim told me all about him.”

“Why did you want to know all about him?”

“Shall I tell you why?” And Farnsworth’s blue eyes looked straight into Patty’s own. “I inquired about him, because Daisy said you were just the same as engaged to him.”

“Daisy said that, did she?” Patty rarely lost her temper, but this unwarranted speech of Daisy Dow’s made her exceedingly angry. But what hurt her even more, was that Bill should believe Daisy’s assertion, and should take it so calmly. His attitude piqued Patty; and she said, coldly: “Well, if Daisy says so, it must be so.”

“I know it, Little Girl,” and Farnsworth’s voice was very tender. “He can give you everything that you ought to have,—wealth, social position, and a life of luxury and pleasure. Moreover, he is a thorough gentleman and a true man. I hope you will be very happy with him, Patty.”

For some reason this speech exasperated Patty beyond all measure. It seemed as if her friends were settling her affairs for her, without giving her any voice in the decision. “You are a little premature, Bill,” she said, without a smile. “I’m not engaged to Mr. Van Reypen, and I do not know that I shall be.”

“Oh, yes, you will, Patty; but don’t be hasty, dear child. Think it over before you decide, for you know there are other things in the world beside wealth and social position.”

“What, for instance?” said Patty, in a flippant tone.

“Love,” said Farnsworth, very seriously.

And then Patty was moved by a spirit of perversity. She thought that if Farnsworth really cared for her, he was handing her over to Philip very easily, and she resented this attitude.

“Are you implying that Mr. Van Reypen is not capable of giving me love, as well as the other advantages you enumerate?”

“No, Patty, I am not implying anything of the sort. I only know that you are too young yet to be engaged to anybody, and I wish for your own sake you would wait,—at least until you are perfectly sure of your own affections. But if they are given to Mr. Van Reypen, I shall be glad for you that you have chosen so wisely.”

Patty looked at Farnsworth in amazement. Remembering what he had said to her last summer, it was strange to hear him talk this way. She could not know that the honest, big-hearted fellow was breaking his own heart at the thought of losing her; but that he unselfishly felt that Van Reypen, as a man of the world, was more fitting for pretty Patty than himself. He knew he was Western, and different from Patty’s friends and associates, and he was so lacking in egotism or in self-conceit that he couldn’t recognise his own sterling merits. And, too, though he was interested in some mining projects, they had not yet materialised, and he did not yet know whether the near future would bring him great wealth, or exactly the reverse of fortune.

But Patty couldn’t read his heart, and she was disappointed and piqued at his manner and words. Without even a glance into his earnest eyes, she said: “Thank you, Bill, for your advice; I know it is well meant, and I appreciate it. Please take me back to Philip now.”

Farnsworth gave her a pained look, but without a word turned and led her back to the group they had left.

Philip was waiting there, and Patty, to hide the strange hurt she felt in her own heart, was exceedingly kind in her manner toward him.

“Our dance, Philip,” she said, gaily, and though it hadn’t been engaged, Philip was only too glad to get it.

Soon afterward, the ball was over, and they all went home. As Patty came from the cloak room, wrapped in her fur coat, Philip stepped up to her in such a possessive way, that Farnsworth, who had also been waiting for her, turned aside.

“That’s a foregone conclusion,” said Jim Kenerley to Farnsworth, as he glanced at Patty and Philip.

“Nonsense,” said AdÈle. “Patty isn’t thinking of conclusions yet. But I must say it would be a very satisfactory match.”

“Yes, Mr. Van Reypen seems to be a fine fellow,” agreed Farnsworth.

When they reached home, Patty said good-night, declaring she was weary enough to go straight to bed at once.

“Will you come down again later, if you’re hungry?” said Philip, smiling at the recollection of Christmas Eve.

“No,” and Patty flashed her dimples at him; and knowing that Farnsworth was listening, she added, “There’s no moonlight to-night!”

“Moonlight does help,” said Philip. “Good-night, Little Bo-Peep.”

“Good-night, Bobby Shafto,” and Patty started upstairs, then turned, and holding out her hand to Farnsworth, said “Good-night, King Lear; shall I see you in the morning?”

“No; I leave on the early train,” said Farnsworth, abruptly. “Good-night, Patty, and good-bye.”

He turned away, toward Daisy, and Patty went on upstairs.

Farnsworth had spoken in a kind voice, but Patty knew that he had heard what she and Philip had said about coming down in the moonlight.

“I think he’s a horrid, mean old thing!” said Patty to herself, when she reached her own room. “His manners are not half as good as Philip’s, and he’s rude and unkind, and I just hate him!”

Whereupon, as if to prove her words, she took from her portfolio the poem in the blue envelope, and read it all over again; and then put it under her pillow and went to sleep.

A few days later Patty was back in New York. She gave her father and Nan glowing accounts of the delightful times she had had at Fern Falls and the jollities of a country house party in the winter time. She told them all about the pleasant people she had met up there, about her experience at Mrs. Fay’s, and about Farnsworth’s flying visits.

“I’d like to meet that man,” said Nan. “I think he sounds attractive, Patty.”

“He is attractive,” said Patty, frankly; “but he’s queer. You never know what mood he’s going to be in. Sometimes he’s awfully friendly, and then again he gets huffy over nothing.”

“I’m afraid you tease him, Patty,” said her father, smiling at her. “You’re getting to be such a popular young person that I fear you’re getting spoiled.”

“Not Patty,” said Nan, kindly. “Go ahead, my child, and have all the fun you can. The young men all adore you, and I don’t wonder.”

“Why, Nancy Bell, how complimentary you are!” and Patty gave her stepmother an affectionate pat.

“But now,” said Mr. Fairfield, “if I may have the floor for a minute, I’d like to make an announcement. We have a plan, Patty, which we made while you were away, and which I hope will meet with your approval.”

“As if I ever disapproved of any of your plans, my dear daddy. Consider my approval granted before you begin.”

“Well, it’s this: I think Nan is looking a little bit pale, and I feel a trifle pale myself, so I think we two will run away down South for a fortnight or so, and leave you here.”

“Alone?” asked Patty, in surprise.

“Well, no; hardly that. But how would you like to have Mrs. Allen, Nan’s mother, come and stay with you?”

“I think that will be lovely,” exclaimed Patty. “I’m awfully fond of Mrs. Allen, and I haven’t seen her for a long time.”

“She’s not a very sedate matron,” said Nan, laughing. “I dare say she’ll keep you on the go, Patty. She’s fond of opera and concerts, and she likes gaiety. But father will come over for the week-ends, and look after you both.”

Nan’s parents lived in Philadelphia, and as they had just returned from a trip abroad, the Fairfields hadn’t seen them lately. But it had seemed to them that the arrangement they had planned would be satisfactory all round, for Mrs. Allen liked to spend a few weeks in New York each winter.

About a week later the elder Fairfields departed, and Mrs. Allen arrived.

She was a fine-looking lady of a youthful middle age, and looked forward with pleasure to her visit with Patty.

“Now, you mustn’t let me be a burden to you in any way, my dear,” Mrs. Allen said, after the two were left alone. “Whenever I can help you, or whenever you want a chaperon, I’m entirely at your service; but when I’m not necessary to your plans, don’t consider me at all,—and don’t think about entertaining me, for I can look after myself. I’m never lonely or bored.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Allen,” said Patty. “I’m sure we shall get on most beautifully together, and anything you want or want to do, I want you to give your own orders, just as if you were in your own home.”

And so the two had many pleasant times together. They went to matinÉes, teas, and concerts, to picture exhibitions, and to card parties. Mrs. Allen did not care for dances, but went gladly when it was a party where Patty required a chaperon.

All of the young people liked Mrs. Allen, and she became well acquainted with all of Patty’s friends.

Bill Farnsworth was still in New York. His plans were uncertain, and often changed from day to day, owing to various details of his business.

He called on Patty occasionally, but not often, and his calls were short and formal.

“I like that big Western chap,” Mrs. Allen said to Patty one day; “but he seems preoccupied. Sometimes he sits as if in a brown study, and says nothing for quite some minutes. And then, when you speak to him, he answers abruptly, as if bringing his mind back from faraway thoughts.”

“I daresay he’s very much wrapped up in his business, Mrs. Allen,” said Patty. “They say he’s trying to swing a big mining proposition,—whatever that means.”

“It may mean a great many things,” said Mrs. Allen, thoughtfully. “I hope he’s all right, Patty.”

“All right! Big Bill Farnsworth all right? Well, I rather guess he is!”

“There, there,” and Mrs. Allen laughed. “You needn’t take up the cudgels so desperately. I didn’t mean to accuse him of anything.”

“No, of course you didn’t,” and Patty laughed, too; “but whatever big Bill may lack in the way of polish or culture, he’s absolutely honest and honourable, even to an absurd degree.”

“I don’t think he lacks culture, Patty. His manners are all right.”

“Yes, they’re all right, but he hasn’t quite the correct ease of a man like Philip Van Reypen.”

“I know what you mean, and I suppose it’s the effect of the aristocratic Van Reypen ancestry. But Mr. Farnsworth has such a splendid big air of real nobility about him that I think a more formal and conventional demeanour would quite spoil him.”

“Maybe it would,” said Patty, simply.

That very afternoon Farnsworth came to call, and told Patty he had come to say good-bye.

“I know you think my farewells never mean anything,” he said, smiling; “and I don’t wonder, for I often say I am going, and then a telegram obliges me to change my plan. But I think it is positive this time that I shall leave to-night for Arizona.”

“Have you been successful in your undertakings?” asked Patty, with a sympathetic interest.

“Yes, I believe I have. I don’t want to be over sanguine, and matters are not yet entirely settled, but I think I have conquered the obstacles which I came to conquer, and I hope all will go well.”

“I hope so, Little Billee,” said Patty, looking at him with earnest good will. “I want you to succeed.”

“Thank you for that,” said Farnsworth, simply.

“And when are you coming East again?”

“I can’t tell; I may have to come back in February; but if that is not necessary, I shall not come for a year or more. You will be married and settled by that time.”

“Indeed, I shan’t! In fact, I’ve about made up my mind that I’ll never marry anybody.”

“Girls have said that before, and been known to change their minds. But whatever you do, I wish you all happiness and joy throughout your whole life,—Little Apple Blossom.”

Farnsworth had risen to go, and he held Patty’s hands in both his, as he looked straight into her eyes.

Patty’s own eyes fell beneath his gaze, and she said, “And I wish you happiness wherever you are, Little Billee.”

“Thank you, dear,” he said, and then with a final handclasp he went away.