Mona met them at the door, and, directing that the luggage be sent to Patty’s rooms, she carried her visitor off to her own boudoir.

“Patty,” she began, “I can’t let you carry out that ridiculous scheme!  I’m going to telephone to the young people not to come.”

“Haven’t telephoned yet, have you?” enquired Patty, carelessly, as she flung herself into an easy-chair, and made vigorous use of a large fan.

“No; I waited to tell you.  But I’m going to begin now,” and Mona lifted a telephone receiver from its hook.

“Oh, I wouldn’t,” said Patty, smiling at her hostess.  “You see, I’ve set my heart on having this party, and I’d hate to have you upset it.”

But, Patty, consider how—­”

“Consider,—­cow—­consider!  Well, my fair lady, I have considered, and I must request you to hang up that telephone, and trust all to me.”

When Patty adopted this tone, playful but decided, Mona knew she could do nothing with her.  So she hung up the receiver, but she still showed a troubled expression as she looked questioningly at pretty Patty.

But that provoking young person only smiled at her, and slowly waved her big fan.

“Awfully warm, even yet, isn’t it?” she said.  “What time is dinner, Mona?  I’ve a lot to do before that party of yours comes off.”

“I ordered dinner early, so we’d have time to dress afterward.  Come, Patty, I’ll show you your rooms.”

The two girls rose, and standing in front of Mona, Patty began to smooth the lines from the other’s brow, with her own finger tips.

“There there,” she said; “don’t worry.  Trust all to Smarty-Patty!  She’ll do the trick.  And just turn up the corners of your mouth a little, so!”

Patty poked her forefingers into Mona’s cheeks till she made her smile, and then Mona gave up.

“All right, Patty,” she said.  “I said you should have your own way, and so you shall!  Get Miller to chaperon us, if you want to,—­I won’t say a word!  Now, come on with me.”

She led Patty across the hall to the suite of rooms prepared for her.  Like everything else at “Red Chimneys,” it was on a far grander scale than Patty’s own home.

There was a boudoir, bedroom, dressing-room, and bath, all fitted up in the prettiest, daintiest manner.

The ivory-tinted walls showed panels of rose-coloured brocade, ornate with gilded decorations in Empire style.  The marquetry furniture and bisque ornaments carried out the scheme, and though elaborate, the rooms were most attractive and comfortable.

Patty herself preferred simpler furnishings, but she knew that Mona didn’t, and she exclaimed with delight at the beauty of appointments.

“It’s out best suite,” said Mona, complacently, “and I’ve had it fixed up freshly for you.”

“It’s charming,” declared Patty, “and I know I shall be very happy here,—­if I can have my own way!” She smiled as she spoke, but she was in earnest, too, for Mona was dictatorial by nature, and Patty by no means proposed to be tyrannised over.