It was by no means the first time; and Miss Carrol looked very grave as Patricia slipped into her place a little later, trying to ignore Nell’s bob of triumph.

It was after supper that evening that the doctor called Patricia into the office.  “Patricia,” he said, as she came to stand before him, “I met Miss Carrol this afternoon.”

“Yes, Daddy.”  Patricia’s thoughts flew rapidly backward; had she been doing anything very dreadful?

“She tells me that you have been tardy very frequently of late, Patricia.”

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

“And yet you usually appear to start in good season?”

“Yes, Daddy; it—­it doesn’t seem to be the starting early.  It’s—­such a lot of things always do seem to happen on the way.”

“What kind of things, Patricia?”

“Well, you see, Daddy, there are such a lot of babies all along, they just expect to be noticed; and sometimes I go for some of the girls and they’ve something to do and I wait to help; and sometimes I go an errand for old Mrs. Daly—­you know she hasn’t any one to go at home.  If you were with me you’d understand, Daddy.”

The doctor smiled.  “Oh, I understand all right, Patricia; still, this being late for school has got to stop.  Suppose every one in the room came just a little late?”

“They don’t,” Patricia said; “most of the girls hate it.”

“And you must learn to hate it too; as a means to that end, if it happens again this week it must be only the yard on Saturday, Patricia.”

“Daddy!” Patricia made swift calculation on the tips of her fingers; it was Monday night—­twice four made eight—­eight pitfalls to be avoided or else—­Not once since her coming had grandmother failed to take Patricia somewhere on Saturday afternoon.

All of this was in Patricia’s gray eyes, as she lifted them appealingly to her father.  “Daddy, if you could make it something else?”

“Are you going to give up the fight beforehand, Pat?”

“But you see, Daddy,” Patricia quoted gravely, “I ‘know my limitations.’  And besides, it isn’t just me—­grandmother’ll be so disappointed; you know we always go somewhere together Saturday afternoon.”

“Which means a double reason for coming up to the mark, Patricia,” the doctor answered; and Patricia, with a little sigh, turned away.

She and Custard were alone in the sitting-room a little later, when Mrs. Cory came in.  Grandmother glanced at the sober face.  “Is anything wrong, dear?” she asked.

“I’m positive I can’t make it,” Patricia said forlornly.

“Make what?”

And Patricia explained.

“Of course you can, dear,” grandmother said cheerily; “and indeed you must; I’ve got a very special reason for wanting you to—­I’m not going to tell you what it is, however, until Saturday morning at breakfast.”

“Over four days to wait!  Grandmother, mayn’t I have just the first letter?”