Patty's Suitors. Wells Carolyn

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СКАЧАТЬ as I said, the beauty of deep thought and education shines from your clear eyes. That is far better than dimples and curls."

      Patty shook her curls at the telephone and her dimples came and went with her varying emotions.

      "Why, I shouldn't like you half as well if you were pretty," Mr. Cameron went on. "The only things I consider worth while are seriousness and scholarship. These you have in abundance, as I can see at once from your picture."

      "And how do you like the way I dress?"

      "It suits your type exactly. That large black-and-white check denotes a mind far above the frivolities of fashion, and that stiff white collar, to my mind, indicates a high order of mentality."

      "I think you're perfectly horrid!" And this exclamation seemed wrung from the depths of Patty's soul.

      A ringing laugh answered her—a laugh so hearty and so full of absolute enjoyment that Patty listened in astonishment.

      "Poor little Princess Poppycheek! It's a shame to tease her! WAS she maligned by a bad, horrid man that she doesn't even know? There, Little Girl, don't cry! I know perfectly well that stiff old schoolmarm isn't you! Now, will you tell me who you are, and what you really look like?"

      Patty had to think quickly. She had supposed that Cameron meant what he said, but after all he was fooling her. And she had thought she fooled him!

      "Which is me, then?" she said, in a small, low voice.

      "None of 'ern! You goosie! To think you could fool ME. In the first place, I knew you wouldn't send your own photograph; and when I saw those three charming specimens, in out-of-date clothes, I knew you had ransacked your album to find them. However, I took the whole bunch down to Marie, and she vowed she had never laid eyes on one of them before. So there, now!"

      "Then we're just back where we started from," said Patty, cheerfully.

      "Yes; but, if you'll come to the musicale on Friday night, we can make great progress in a short time."

      "I told you I'd go, if you would persuade Marie to invite me."

      "Nonsense! I believe she HAS invited you. I believe you're Miss

      Curtiss. SHE has dark hair."

      "Why not that other singer, Miss Fairfield?"

      "Oh, Marie says she's a blonde. The 'raving beauty' sort. I detest that kind. I know she's vain."

      "Yes, she is. I hate to speak against another girl, but I know that

      Patty Fairfield, and she IS vain."

      "Well, never mind about Patty Fairfield She doesn't interest me a bit.

      But what about you? Will you come to the party? Oh, DO-ee,

      DO-ee,—now,—as my old Scotch nurse used to say. Come to your waiting

      knight!"

      Kit's voice was very wheedlesome, and Patty was moved to encourage him a little.

      "Do you know,—I almost think—that maybe—possibly—perhaps, I WILL go."

      "Really? Oh, Poppycheek, I'm SO glad! I do want to see My Girl!"

      "YOUR girl, indeed!"

      "Yes; mine by right of discovery."

      "But you haven't discovered me yet."

      "But I will,—on Friday night. You'll TRULY come, WON'T you?"

      "Honest, I've never been where I wasn't invited—"

      "But this is different–"

      "Yes,—it IS different–"

      "Oh, then you will come! Goody, GOODY! I'm so glad!"

      "Don't break the telephone with your gladness! Suppose I DO come, how will you know me? How will you know that it is I?"

      "Oh, I'll know! 'I shall know it, I shall feel it, something subtle will reveal it, for a glory round thee hovers that will lighten up the gloom.'"

      "Oh, you ARE a poet."

      "I am a poet, but I didn't write that. However, it was only because the other fellow got ahead of me."

      "Who was he? Who wrote it?"

      "I'll tell you Friday night. Come early, won't you?" "No; I always get to a party late."

      "Don't be too late. I want to play to you. And will you sing?"

      "Mercy, gracious! I might go to a party without being invited, but I can't SING without being asked. You tell Marie I'm coming, will you?"

      "You bet I will. What shall you wear?"

      "What's your favourite colour?"

      "Red."

      "Red is becoming to brunettes; but I haven't any red evening gown. How about yellow?"

      "All right, wear yellow. I shall adore you in any colour."

      "Well; perhaps I'll come, and perhaps I won't. Good-night."

      Patty hung up the receiver with a sudden click, and Mr. Kit Cameron was left very much in doubt as to whether the whole thing was a joke or not.

      CHAPTER VI

      PRINCESS POPPYCHEEK

      On the night of the musicale at Marie Homer's, her talented cousin arrived long before any guests were expected.

      "I couldn't wait, Aunt Frances," he said, as Mrs. Homer greeted him.

      "I'm so impatient to see My Girl."

      Kit had told the Homers of the telephone conversations, because he was so anxious to find out his lady's name. Of course, he had not told all they said, and from his incoherent ravings about a black-haired beauty Marie never guessed he could mean Patty.

      "You're a foolish boy, Kit," said his Aunt.

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