Crowds of people were constantly arriving, and among them were many of Patty’s old friends.  Many, too, of her newer acquaintances, who lived in Arden and also in the nearby towns.

Patty was charming and delightful to everybody, remembering that she was in a way hostess as well as a sales-lady.

Fleurette graced her mother’s booth with her presence, later in the afternoon, and quite redeemed her reputation for good nature, by smiling impartially on everybody, and gurgling a welcome to all who looked at her.

The little garments and toys of Patty’s booth were soon sold out, for they were choice bits of needlework and found ready buyers.

And then one enthusiastic young father wanted to buy the playhouse itself, in which Patty had displayed her wares.

“But I meant to keep this for my own baby!” she cried.

“Oh, you can build another by the time that little mite needs one,” the young man replied.  “And my youngster is four years old,—­just ready to inhabit a ready made home of this kind,”

So the pretty little house was sold, and plans were made to remove it to the purchaser’s estate.

So it went.  Azalea had many offers for her wigwam, if she would sell it after the fair.  She agreed to let it go to the highest bidder, and finally received a fine price.

Archery was one of the pretty diversions, and at this Azalea excelled.  To the surprise of all, she proved exceedingly skilful with the bow and arrow and easily won the prize offered.  But she magnanimously refused to accept it, and returned it to be competed for over again.

Mr. Greatorex, the expert connoisseur in the matter of antiques, arrived at Elise’s log cabin and expressed delight in its construction and furnishing.

The cabin was not for sale, Elise laughingly informed him, as Mr. Farnsworth intended to keep it a permanent fixture on his own grounds.  Also, Elise went on, very few things of value were left on her tables,—­but she still had one piece on which she wished to ask his opinion.

From a drawer she brought out the sampler that Azalea had given her and passed it over to Mr. Greatorex, without comment.

He looked at it, at first casually and then more closely.

His face expressed mystification, and suddenly he examined the date minutely and then smiled.

“Very clever, my dear,—­very cleverly done, indeed.  Did you do it?”

“Oh, no; it is the property of a friend of mine,—­it was done by an ancestor of hers.  You see it’s signed and dated.”

“I see!  Oh, yes, I see!  But you mustn’t try to impose on me,—­my eyesight is not yet entirely gone!”

“What do you mean, Mr. Greatorex?” Elise was puzzled.  “I’m not trying to impose on you!”

“I hope not, my girl, for I wouldn’t want to believe such a thing of you.  But you have been imposed upon.”

“How?”