Notwithstanding the experience of the evening, Patty slept dreamlessly all night, and was only awakened, when Jane came in the morning with her breakfast tray.

"Hello, Jane," she said, sleepily, opening her eyes, "will you ask Mrs.

Fairfield to come up here right away?"

"What is it, Patty?" said Nan, appearing a moment later; "are you ill?

Jane said you wanted me right away."

"No, I'm not ill," and Patty gave her stepmother a quizzical glance. "Sit down, Nan, and brace yourself for a shock. In me you behold a charming young debutante who has received her first proposal from a most worthy young man."

"Good gracious, Patty! Kenneth?"

"None other!" And Patty waved her hand dramatically.

"Naturally, I'm not overcome with amazement, as he spoke to Fred about it first. Kenneth always has good manners. Well, and what did you say, Patty?"

Patty eyed Nan, provokingly. "What do you think, Nancy?"

"Honestly, Patty, I haven't the slightest idea. Ken is splendid, I think,—but–"

"But what, Nan?" And Patty looked deeply interested.

"First, what did you say?"

"I won't tell you, until you tell me what you meant by 'but.'"

"Why, I only meant that Kenneth is,—well he's a dear and all that, but he's so–"

"Oh, fiddlesticks, Nan, say it out! Dull, prosaic, old-fogy, poky, slow."

"Patty, Patty! those words are too strong! Ken isn't all those things!

He's only,—just a little bit–"

"Just a day and a half behind the times. Or else I'm a day and a half ahead of them. Well, Nan, that's what I told him."

"What! that he was dull and old-fogy?"

"Not exactly those terms; but in a few well-chosen words I gave him that impression, or tried to. By the way, Nan, I danced all round the room while he was proposing. Was that correct?"

"Patty, stop your nonsense! Will you never be grown-up? You shall not make fun of Kenneth."

"Oh, Nan, I only wish I could! You might as well try to make fun of the Public Library. Kenneth is an institution. I always feel like saying to him, 'Sail on, sail on, oh, Ship of State!' or something like that. Now, wait a minute, Nan; don't you think I don't appreciate his sterling qualities. Like a Ship of State, he's made of pure granite,—oh, NO, they don't make ships of granite, do they?—I mean like the Public Library, you know. And he has solid foundations,—mental, moral, and physical. But he hasn't any fancy work about him. Even the Public Library has flags flying,—but Ken never thinks of anything as gay as a flag."

"Patty, you're talking a lot, but I do believe you know what you're saying;—it's true, dear. And are you going to marry him?"

"Marry him!" And Patty looked distinctly aggrieved. "Why, Nan, do you think for a moment I'd accept my first proposal? No, sir-ee! After I've had half a dozen, I may take one seriously, but not before. How can I tell until I've seen various sorts? Why, Nan, Kenneth didn't go down on his knees at all! I thought they always did. Didn't father, when he asked you?"

"Oh, Patty, I thought you were up-to-date! Kneeling proposals went out with the Colonials! It's only a tradition, now."

"Gracious, Nan, how experienced you are! But I don't think I shall accept anybody until he kneels to me. But don't tell anybody that, for I don't want them all doing it on purpose."

"Patty," and Nan spoke seriously, "it's all very well for you to rattle on like this, but you mustn't treat Ken's proposal lightly. He's a splendid man and he's terribly in love with you–"

"Wait a minute, Nan," and Patty was quite as earnest as the other. "Ken isn't TERRIBLY in love with me. I'd like it better if he were. He's deeply in love, even earnestly,—almost solemnly, but–"

"That's the best sort, Patty. Remember, dear, flirtation is all very well; but in the man you marry you want those qualities you've just mentioned."

"Oh, Nan, don't you be serious, too! Ken's seriousness almost finished me. And I suppose father will take the same tack! Oh, I don't want to be grown-up,—I think it's HORRID!"

Nan looked sympathetically at Patty.

"I suppose, right here," Patty went on, "I ought to burst into tears. Don't girls always cry over their first proposal? But, Nan, I feel more like giggling. I can't help it. It seems so ridiculous for Kenneth and me to go through that scene we had last evening. We've been friends so long, and then for him, all of a sudden–"

"It wasn't sudden with him, Patty. He's been in love with you for years."

"Yes, so he says. Well, Nan, I don't HAVE to marry him, do I?"

"No, of course not."

"Well, then, I'm not going to! And I don't want to be treated as if I were an ingrate because I don't! Ken is a splendid man, noble souled and all that, but I don't love him and never shall. Now please, Nan, be nice to me."

"Why, Patty, dear, I never dreamed of NOT being nice to you! I do want you to realise what you're throwing away, but if you couldn't be happy with Ken, of course, you mustn't marry him. He's a very different temperament from you, and I think myself he would be a sort of a weight on your buoyant nature. And if you're sure of your own heart, that's all there is about it. But you must tell Ken so, just as kindly as possible, for I know it will be an awful blow to the poor fellow. Did you tell him?"

"Yes, I did, but he insisted that I should think it over."

"Well, think it over. It won't hurt you to do that. And if you keep getting more and more certain that you don't love Kenneth and never will, then you'll know you're right in your decision. You're a dear girl, Patty, and I want you to marry some time, and just the right man."

"As you did."

"Yes, as I did," and Nan gave a happy smile. "You will probably marry some one nearer your own age, Patty, but you can never be any happier than Fred and I are."

"I believe you, you dear old thing! Oh, here's the mail, and I have not touched my breakfast yet."

Jane came in with a lot of letters, and Patty pounced upon one in particular.

"Here's a letter from Adele," she cried. "I hope she's coming to the city, she's been talking of it."

But instead of that news, the letter contained an invitation for Patty to come up to Fern Falls for a visit.

"Come to spend May-day," Adele wrote. "I'm having a small house party; in part, a reunion of our Christmas crowd. Daisy is here and Hal, of course, and we all want you. Invite one or two of your beaux, if you like, but don't bring any more girls; for we have two or three new neighbours with a superfluity of daughters. Come as soon as you can, and stay as long as you will, and bring your prettiest frocks. Oceans of love from me and Jim. Adele."

"That's good," said Nan, as she read the letter. "Why don't you start right off, Patty? Adele says to invite some young men if you like. You might ask Kenneth!"

"No, thank you. I don't want any of the boys. I'll be glad to get away from them for awhile. I must have some new frocks, Nan. Something Springy, you know."

"Yes, we'll go and order them to-day. I'd love to." Nan spoke absentmindedly, for she was reading her own letters, and Patty proceeded to open the rest of her mail.

That evening Kenneth came for his answer.

Patty had talked it over with her father, and had concluded the kindest thing was to tell Kenneth frankly, no.

The scene was not as difficult as Patty had feared, for Kenneth took the cheerful attitude of believing that she would yet relent.

"So long as there is no one else, Patty, girl," he said, very gently, "I'm going to hope that you will yet learn to love me. I shall never despair, until you tell me yourself that you have given your heart to some one else."

"And we'll be good friends, Ken?"

"You bet we will! You needn't think I'm down and out because you've said no, once! I'm not awfully swift, Patty, but I'm terribly persistent,—and I'm just going to keep on loving you, in hope that some day you'll come to me because you want to."

"But there's no promise, Ken."

"No, dear, no promise. Only a hope in my heart, too deep to be rooted out, that some day—"

"So—me day! So—ome day!" chanted Patty in a trilling voice, and Ken smiled in his old, friendly fashion.

"He is awfully nice," Patty said to Nan, afterward, "when he isn't proposing. There's something about Ken you can't help liking."

And Nan smiled and said, "That's so."

The days flew along, the spring frocks materialised and the grass and flowers began to be beautiful up at Fern Falls.

Patty went up there a few days before the first of May, and was welcomed by the Kenerleys with vigorous and jubilant greetings.

"You dear!" exclaimed Adele, as after a rapturous hug she held Patty off to look at her. "I do believe you're prettier than ever!"

"It's the happiness of coming up here," said Patty, smiling. "I'm so glad to come, Adele. The country in spring,—and all that, you know."

"Yes," said Adele, laughing. "You know what the Boston girl said: 'Oh,

I just LOVE nature! It ADDS so!' You're like that, aren't you, Patty?"

"Exactly! but spring is all over the city, too. They're selling flowers on every street corner, and all the pedestrians wear big bunches of violets or daffodils or magnolias or something. Daisy, you're looking fine! How long have you been here?"

"I came last week," said Daisy Dow, "and I'm awfully glad to see you again, Patty."

And then Patty was whisked off to her room, and not until tea-time did she see the rest of the house party.

Then her host, Jim Kenerley, appeared, and Hal Ferris, Adele's brother, and, greatly to Patty's surprise, Philip Van Reypen.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Phil," said Patty, after she had greeted the men of the house.

"I'm only here for a short time," returned Philip; "Mrs. Kenerley invited me to stay as long as I behaved myself; but you know, Patty, I can't do that very long."

"No, indeed! You'll be starting to-morrow morning at that rate!"

"Now, Patty, that's unkind of you. However, under your angelic influence, I may behave well enough to stay till the afternoon train."

"You're a beautiful behaver, Mr. Van Reypen," declared his hostess, "and I shan't let naughty Patty cast aspersions."

"What are those things, Adele?" asked Patty; "I'm sure I never cast anything like that at anybody, and I wouldn't hit him if I did. I can't hit the side of a barn."

"I know they say that about women," said Hal Ferris; "but I believe it's a base libel. At least, I think they could be taught to accomplish such a feat. I believe I'll organise a class of young ladies and teach them how to hit the side of a barn."

"But why hit it at all?" asked Daisy; "what has the poor barn done to be hit?"

"Lots of people get hit when they don't deserve it," said Kenerley. "But don't use our barn, Hal, use the neighbour's. Because under your tuition, your pupils might get proficient enough to hit it."

"I'm so glad to be here when it isn't winter," said Patty, looking around her. They were having tea on one of the wide verandas, which, though still enclosed with glass, had many panes open to the spring air.

"From now on, it's lovely here," said Adele; "almost every day we have one more sash open and then pretty soon we take them all out."

"It was lovely last winter, when we had tea by the hall fireplace, but this is better still," and Patty leaned back in her Japanese wicker easy-chair and nibbled contentedly at her plate of little cakes.

The tea hour at the Kenerleys' was always a pleasant affair, and in warm weather neighbours from the nearby country houses were apt to stroll over. On this occasion two or three came and Patty became acquainted with several young ladies.

"You know what I told you," said Adele to Patty, after they had left.

"We have plenty of girls around here, but not many men. So for the

May-party, I want you to ask a few of your friends to come up."

"All right, I will; the boys will all be glad to come. Which ones do you want?"

"I've already asked Roger Farrington, and we'll see about the others later."

"All right," said Patty, carelessly; "I've one or two new friends whom

I'm sure you will like."

The next day Patty had a brilliant idea for a joke on Kit Cameron. It popped into her head quite suddenly, and she gleefully told her scheme to Adele and Daisy, as they sat together in Adele's own pleasant sitting-room.

"Doesn't Mr. Cameron know you're up here?" asked Adele.

"No; I haven't seen him for a week or two. He went South with the

Homers and only came home the day I left."

The plan was carefully thought out, amid giggling and laughter, and the final result was achieved by Patty in the form of a much scribbled letter.

"Now I'm going down to copy this on Jim's typewriter," she said. And she flew downstairs to the library, from which opened a small office fitted up for Mr. Kenerley's home use.

Jim Kenerley had gone to business, and Van Reypen and Hal Ferris were playing golf, so Patty had the place to herself; and by dint of slow but persevering pounding on the typewriter, she picked out the following missive:

"Mr. Christopher Cameron: DEAR MR. CAMERON,

A few weeks ago I heard you play the violin at a concert! Oh, if I could tell you the raptures that thrilled my soul at the floods of melody you drew from the insensate strings! Only a poet's spirit, only a high-strung heart could accomplish such strains! I, too, am of a musical spirit; I, too, thrill to the notes of the great masters, if interpreted as they are by you! May I hope that you will not spurn this outburst of a sympathetic nature, and accept this tribute to your genius? Could I look for a line,—just a word,—in response to this, saying that you are glad of my appreciation? Never before have I written to a stranger. That is why I dare not use my own penmanship. Please do not seek to find out who I am, but send just a line that I may know you do not scorn my praise. Address Miss Belle Harcourt, Maple Bank, Conn."

The conspirators had decided upon the Maple Bank Post-office as being safer than Fern Falls, if Kit should by any chance hear that Patty had gone to the Kenerleys'.

"You know," said Patty, as she sealed the letter, "it might be mean to play this trick on anybody else, but Kit plays so many jokes on other people, he deserves it. And while he's not over-conceited, yet he's just vain enough to be tickled to death with this appreciation of his music. 'Miss Harcourt' will get an answer, all right! Come on, girls, let's get ready to go to Maple Bank."

And in a short time the three plotters were motoring over to the adjoining village to post the precious document.

Of course, they did not tell the men about this, and the three kept it an inviolate secret.

"We can hardly expect an answer for two days," said Patty, "but if I know Mr. Kit, he'll reply about as quickly as possible."

And sure enough, when the next day but one the three again invaded the little Maple Bank post-office, there was a letter from New York City for Miss Belle Harcourt.

"Read it, read it!" cried Daisy as they started homeward with their prize.

The three sat side by side in the motor, with Patty in the middle, and they all giggled, as Patty read the letter aloud.

"DEAR MISS HARCOURT:

I cannot tell you what pleasure your letter gave me. It is so delightful to learn that a stranger is interested in my poor attempts at making music. And—may I say it?—the personal charm of your letter has thrilled my heart! Only a pure, sweet, young nature could write as you do. May I not see you? Or at least will you not send me your photograph? I know I have no right to ask this, but I would so love to meet one so sympathetic and appreciative of the great art which is the ideal of my life.

With many, many thanks for your welcome letter, I am,

Very sincerely yours, CHRISTOPHER CAMERON."

"I knew he'd do it!" cried Patty. "I knew he'd fall for that flattery! Kit's a perfect dear, but he IS vain of his music, and I don't blame him. He's a wonderful violinist."

"What are you going to do next, Patty?" asked Adele. "Answer that letter?"

"Sure!" returned Patty; "but I'm not running this thing alone. We must all help make up the letter. And, Adele, haven't you some photograph that will be just right to send?"

As soon as they reached home they hunted over Adele's collection of photographs, and finally found one that Patty declared just right.

It was a picture of one of Adele's cousins, a girl of about sixteen, whose sweet young face wore an expression so soulful and languishing that it was almost comical.

"Hester hates that picture," said Adele; "she never looks that way really,—like a sick calf,—but somehow the photographer managed to catch that expression."

"She wouldn't mind if she knew, would she?" said Patty.

"Oh, mercy, no! She'd think it the best joke in the world. She lives in

California, so there's little chance of Mr. Cameron ever seeing her.

Now let's write the letter."

After much agony of composition and much gay fooling, the plotters produced this:

"DEAR MR. CHRISTOPHER:

I must modify your more formal name a little,—for it seems now as if I almost knew you. I tremble with fear lest some one should discover that I write to you. But I cannot help writing. I am impelled by a feeling in my soul. I send my picture and I wish it were more beautiful. For I know you love only what is good and beautiful. We must not meet, that would be TOO dangerous. But will you not write me one more precious letter that I may keep it forever?

BELLE."

There had been much discussion over the signature. Adele preferred "Yours devotedly"; Daisy wanted "Yours adoringly"; but Patty stood out for the name alone, saying that it meant more that way.

And so the letter enclosing the picture was despatched to Kit, who received it duly.

CHAPTER XVI
BELLE HARCOURT

As quickly as possible the answer came back.

It was a rainy day, and Adele sent the chauffeur to Maple Bank after it.

The three gathered in Patty's room to hear it read, and were not surprised that it ran after this manner:

"BELLE:

How could you know the dearest way to sign yourself? Any other word would have spoiled it! But Belle! My beautiful one! I MUST see you! The picture is just what I anticipated, only more sweet and soulful. You are an angel, and I must see you or die. Do not make me wait. May I fly to Maple Bank at once? Meet me somewhere. No one will know it,—but I must look once into those dear eyes!

Your own

CHRISTOPHER."

"Oh, Kit, Kit!" exclaimed Patty, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes; "I didn't know you COULD be such an idiot! Adele, we must have him come up here."

"Oh, of course. How shall we arrange a meeting?"

"I'll tell you," said Daisy, "write him that Belle will meet him in front of the Maple Bank post-office. Then let Patty meet him, you know, and we'll sit in the car and see the fun."

"All right," Patty agreed. "WON'T he be mad when he sees ME!"

So they wrote:

"MY CHRISTOPHER:

I knew we were made for each other. I, too, feel that I must see you. But our meeting must be secret. I cannot risk my people knowing about it. So, will you meet me in front of the Maple Bank post-office at four o'clock on Thursday afternoon? I would like a more secluded place, but I dare not. The post-office is on a beautiful maple-shaded street and we can meet casually, as if we were ordinary passersby. You must only speak with me a few moments, and let me look once deep in your eyes, and then you must pass on,—out of my life forever! But I shall have at least one moment of blissful rapture! You will know me, because I shall wear white, with pink roses in my hat, and a pink parasol. I can hardly wait for Thursday! Come soon to

Your

BELLE."

"I rather guess that'll fetch him," observed Patty, complacently, as she sealed the envelope. "I knew Kit was a romantic goose, but I didn't suppose he'd be up to these tricks."

"Of course we'll bring him home with us, Patty," said Adele.

"Yes, he'll come fast enough."

"If he isn't too mad at you," put in Daisy.

"Oh, he won't be mad," returned Patty; "he'll be terribly cut up at first, to think I tricked him so, but he'll get over it. And I warn you, Adele, if he comes here he'll play some fearful joke on us to get even."

"I don't mind," said Adele, "I like a joke once in awhile as well as anybody else. Now if he comes Thursday, Patty, will he stay over Saturday? That's May-day, you know, and I'd like to have him here for the celebration."

"He'll be here if you ask him; even if he has to go back to the city Friday and come up again for Saturday. Phil and Roger come Saturday, you know."

Van Reypen had gone back to town for a few days, and Hal Ferris was also away on business, which was one reason why the girls had plunged so interestedly into their merry scheme.

Thursday afternoon they started for Maple Bank in time to be at the post-office before four o'clock, and witness the arrival of Mr. Cameron.

Patty looked her dainty best, in a white linen, with a broad-brimmed hat wreathed with pink roses. Her pink parasol was flounced with chiffon and adorned with a bunch of pink roses, and two rose blooms were tucked in her belt.

"Rather summery garb, for the last of April," said Patty, gazing at herself in Adele's long mirror; "but I said I'd wear white before I thought. However, it's a lovely day, and with my motor coat I'll be warm enough going over."

They started off in high spirits, and reached the post-office at quarter before four. Kit was already there, walking calmly up and down the maple-shaded village street, and apparently waiting with properly concealed impatience.

In accordance with directions, the chauffeur drove right past the post-office and around a corner, where the three conspirators might indulge in a burst of laughter.

"I shan't appear until a few minutes after four," said Patty; "it isn't feminine to keep an appointment on time."

So they went up and down some other streets until just the right time, and then Patty got out of the car, as she intended to walk to the tryst.

The car, with Adele and Daisy, whizzed away and took up a position exactly opposite the post-office, stopping there to watch the show.

Of course Cameron paid no attention to this car, and continued to patrol the sidewalk with slow, even steps.

At last, as he walked along, he saw a girl in white coming toward him. Her pink parasol completely concealed her face, but Cameron knew it was his "Belle."

He walked on slowly, and Patty did too, until they met and both stopped. Gently he raised the intruding parasol and turned it to one side.

But even then, he could not see Patty's face, for she had arranged her broad-brimmed hat to droop over it, and she hung her head as if in extreme shyness. But she put out her hand and Cameron clasped it in his own.

"Belle," he murmured, "MY Belle! Look at me, please!"

Suddenly Patty lifted her head, and smiled into Kit Cameron's face.

He took a step backward, and staggered almost as if he would fall.

"Patty Fairfield!" he exclaimed, "what does this mean? Why are you here? I expected—oh, I beg your pardon—I—I'm aw-awfully glad to see you."

Adele and Daisy, watching them, were convulsed at Cameron's baffled surprise. They could almost hear what he said. They could see how he tried to pull himself together, and they could see Patty speechless with laughter, as she enjoyed the joke on Kit.

"What are YOU doing in Maple Bank?" she said, as soon as she could speak for laughing.

Kit looked at her gravely. "I came expressly to meet a girl in a white frock and pink roses. I don't see any other around, so—it might as well be you!"

"You needn't try to turn it off so carelessly," said Patty. "Own up that you're caught! What was your girl's name?"

"Belle—My Belle—" And Cameron rolled his eyes in such soulful manner, that Patty went off in another paroxysm.

"Oh, you Joke King, you! Nobody can trick you, can they? Do you own up?"

"Own up what? that I'd rather see you than any other belle? Certainly, I'll own that. But my time is up. You know we were only to gaze once into each other's eyes and then part forever!" And Kit gazed into her eyes as if it were indeed the last time.

"That'll do," said Patty, laughing again. "The farce is over. Now come and be real. Your own beautiful real self. Come and meet my friends."

"Who?" said Kit, as he accompanied Patty across the street.

"Here he is," sang out Patty, as they reached the car. "Mrs. Kenerley,—Miss Dow,—may I present Mr. Cameron, the celebrated violin virtuoso."

Adele greeted him warmly, and Daisy smiled on him, and Cameron's own delightful manner soon made them all friends.

"Jump in and go home with us, Mr. Cameron," said Adele, turning down a side seat in the car.

"But my stay in Maple Bank is limited," said Kit. "I'm due to take the next train back to New York."

"Come back with us to tea, anyway," said Adele.

"You can stay to dinner, too," said Patty, "and take a late train down from Fern Falls."

"But you see, though I dressed with particular care to meet a very charming young lady, I didn't expect to dine with her."

"Oh, no matter," said Adele; "we won't be formal to-night. But if you will, Mr. Cameron, we'd like to have you come back on Saturday for our May-day celebration."

"Will I!" said Kit; "you're awfully good to ask me, Mrs. Kenerley, after you've discovered what a wicked young man I am, thus to follow up invitations from strange ladies. But you see the photograph that came to me was so charming that the temptation was irresistible."

"If you'd known it was only me, you wouldn't have come, would you?" asked Patty.

Kit regarded her solemnly. Then he waved his hand, as if dismissing a question of no moment. "It doesn't matter," he said, "all young ladies in pink and white look alike to me."

"Then I'm glad I'm not in pink and white," said Daisy, who was looking very pretty in a blue linen frock, with wide black ribbons.

"So am I," and Kit smiled at her approvingly. "You look so different, it's a pleasure to observe you."

Cameron had a charming way of talking nonsense, and before they reached home both Daisy and Adele had taken a decided liking to the gay young man.

They had tea on the glass-paned veranda, and it was not until they were all comfortably seated, with their teacups in hand, that Cameron said, casually: "Oh, by the way, Patty, I have a note for you from Mrs. Fairfield, and a parcel."

He took from his pocket a letter and a little box.

"Oh, thank you," said Patty, taking them "May I?" she added, as she opened the note.

As Patty read, her face grew longer and her eyes grew bigger. As she finished, she looked at Cameron, who was gazing at her with his eyes full of laughter.

"You Kit!" she exclaimed; "oh, you Kit Cameron! Can nobody EVER get ahead of you? Girls, listen to this! It's a note from Nan, and she says: 'Dear Patty: Mr. Cameron says he's going to see you to-morrow. Has Adele invited him to Fern Falls? How nice for you all. He won't tell me how she happened to do so, but I suppose it was through you. I'm sending you by him your pearl pin, which you forgot. Oceans of love, from Nan.' Now, how in the name of common sense, did you happen to tell Nan that you were coming to see me?"

"Why, I was there last night, and I knew I was coming up here to-day; so I told her, and she asked me to bring your pin. And I said I would. That's all."

"But how did you know you were coming here?" persisted Patty.

"I didn't know I was coming here, and I didn't tell Mrs. Fairfield I was. I only told her I should see you. I can't help what she assumed,—and I have delivered the pin in safety."

"But how did you know you were going to see me?"

"My dear child, do you suppose for one minute that I fell for that Belle Harcourt business? Didn't you know that I would know that that very first letter was written by your fairy fingers?"

"Why, Mr. Cameron!" exclaimed Adele, "weren't you really fooled?"

"You WERE!" exclaimed Daisy. "You were at first, anyway."

"Not for a minute, Miss Dow," and Kit smiled lazily at her. "I'm not over-modest about my wonderful musical genius, but somehow I couldn't believe that a stranger appreciated me so highly. I just COULDN'T believe it, and something told me that it wasn't quite all it sounded. Then, says I to myself, if it isn't a real Belle Harcourt it's most probably Patty Fairfield. I had no idea you were away, but I telephoned the house, and some of your menials told me you were at Fern Falls. I had never heard of Fern Falls, but it was me for the atlas, and after much study, I unearthed Fern Falls and found it to be very decidedly adjacent to Maple Bank. So I put away my atlas, got down my arithmetic, and by its artful aid I managed to put two and two together. If I had found any one else but Patty Fairfield under that pink parasol, I should have been the most surprised man under the Stars and Stripes!"

"I think you're perfectly horrid!" cried Patty; "just per-fect-ly hor-rid!"

"You don't really, you know," and Kit smiled at her, calmly, "you're just as ready to admit yourself tricked, as I was."

Patty went off into a peal of laughter at the thought of how she had insisted that Kit should own up to being tricked, when they met; but she felt a little chagrined that her joke had fallen through.

"I'm glad of it," declared Adele, "for I may as well confess, Mr. Cameron, it had prejudiced me against you to think you would write those letters to a stranger."

"Oh, I wouldn't, Mrs. Kenerley," said Kit, with exaggerated earnestness. "Honest and truly, I wouldn't! I NEVER write letters to strangers, unless I'm SURE the strangers are Patty Fairfield. And I'm sure I shouldn't dare to write a letter to the young lady of the photograph that came to me. She looked like an angel in the last stages of nervous prostration."

"That's exactly what she did look like," said Adele, laughing. "I must tell Hester that! She's a school-girl cousin of mine, Mr. Cameron, and if she were here, she'd enjoy this two-story joke as well as any of us."

Cameron stayed to dinner, as he said, to make his peace with Mr. Kenerley when he came home, but really because he wanted to remain with the pleasant house party.

Hal Ferris came home at dinner time, too, and was greatly diverted by the whole story of the Belle Harcourt joke.