“It isn’t only your height, child, you always were a big girl.  But you seem to be growing up in other ways, and I don’t believe I like it I was glad when you were no longer a child, but I like to have you a little girl, and I don’t believe I’ll care for you a bit when you’re a young woman.”

“Now, isn’t that too bad!” said Patty, pinching her father’s cheek.  “I suppose I’ll have to suit myself with another father—­I’m sure I couldn’t live with anybody who didn’t like me a bit.  Well, perhaps Uncle Charley will adopt me; he seems to like me at any age.”

“Oh, I’ll try and put up with you,” said her father, kissing her.  “And meantime, what’s this talk about piling up your hair on top of your head.  Is it really absolutely necessary to do so, if you wear this frippery confection of dry-goods?”

“Oh, not necessary, perhaps, but I think it would look better.  At any rate, I’ll just try it.”

“Well, you don’t seem to be standing with very reluctant feet,” said her father.  “I believe you’re rather anxious to grow up, after all; but run along, chicken, and dress your hair any way you please.  I want you to have a good time at your first ball.”

As Frank Elliott and Kenneth Harper and Mr. Hepworth came down to Spring Lake to stay over Sunday, the party of friends at Marlborough House was considerably augmented.  When the young men arrived the girls were lazily basking on the sand, and Nan was pretending to read a book to the other two.  Only pretending, however, for Patty kept interrupting her with nonsensical remarks, and Marian teased her by slowly sifting sand through her fingers onto the pages of the book.

“I might as well try to read to a tribe of wild Indians as to you two girls,” said Nan at last.  “Don’t you want your minds improved?”

“Do you think our superior minds can be improved by that trash you’re reading?” said Patty.  “I really think some of your instructive conversation would benefit us more greatly.”

“You’re an ungrateful pair,” said Nan, “and you don’t deserve that I should waste my valuable conversation upon you.  And you don’t deserve, either, that I should tell you to turn your heads around to see who’s coming—­but I will.”

Her hearers looked round quickly, and saw three familiar figures coming along the board walk.

“Goody!” cried Patty, and scrambling to her feet, she ran with outstretched hands to meet them.

She didn’t look very grown up then, in her blue-serge beach dress and her hair in a long thick braid down her back, and curling round her temples in windblown locks; but to Mr. Hepworth’s artist eye she looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

Kenneth Harper, too, looked admiringly at the graceful figure flying toward them across the sand, but Frank shouted: 

“Hello, Patty, don’t break your neck! we’re coming down there.  Where’s Marian?”