Uncle Charley sat down, and Mr. Fairfield rose.  “I have listened with great interest to the somewhat flattering remarks of my esteemed fellow members, and have come to the conclusion that, if agreeable to Her Judgeship, a compromise might be effected.  It would seem to me that if a decision should be arrived at for the Vernondale home, the Fairfields could manage to reap some few of those mysterious advantages said to be found in city life, by going to New York and staying a few months every winter.  This, too, would give them an opportunity to receive visits from the Elliott family, which would, I’m sure, be a pleasure and profit to all concerned.  With this suggestion I am quite ready to hear a positive and final decision from Her Honour, the Judge.”

“And it won’t take her long to make up her mind, either,” cried Patty.  “I knew you’d fix it somehow, papa; you are the best and wisest man!  Solomon wasn’t in it with you, nor Solon, nor Socrates, nor anybody!  That arrangement is exactly what I choose, and suits me perfectly, I do want to stay in New York sometimes, but I would much rather live in Vernondale; so the judge hereby announces that, on the merits of the case, the question is decided in the negative.  The Fairfields will buy a house in Vernondale, and the judge hopes that they will buy it quick.”

“Three cheers for Patty and Uncle Fred,” cried Frank, and while they were being given with a will, Marian flew to the telephone, and, when the cheers subsided, she was engaged in a conversation of which the debating club heard only one side.

“Is this you, Elsie?”

“What do you think?  Patty’s going to stay in Vernondale!”

“Yes, indeed, perfectly gorgeous.”

“Just this evening; just now.”

“I guess I am!  I’m so glad I don’t know what to do!”

“Oh, yes, of course she’ll keep on being president.”

“No, they haven’t decided yet, but I want them to take the Bigelow house.”

“Yes; wouldn’t it be fine!”

“Oh, it isn’t very late.”

“Well, come over early to-morrow morning, then.”

“Good-by.”

“Elsie Morris is delighted,” said Marian, as she hung up the receiver, “and Polly Stevens will just dance jigs of joy when she hears about it.  I’d call her up now, only I’m afraid she’d break the telephone trying to express her enthusiasm; she flutters so.”

“You can tell her about it to-morrow,” said Frank, “and now let’s talk about where the house shall be.  Would you rather buy or build, Uncle Fred?”

“Perhaps it would be better to rent,” said Mr. Fairfield.  “Suppose my fickle daughter should change her mind, and after a visit in the city decide that she prefers it for her home.”

“I’m not fickle, papa,” said Patty, “and it’s all arranged all right just as it is; but I don’t want a rented house, they won’t let you drive tacks in the walls, or anything like that.  Let’s buy a house, and then, if you turn fickle and want to move away, we can sell it again.”