It was not accomplished without some few difficulties, and much giggling, but by eight o’clock, Patty and Mona surveyed a most acceptable looking chaperon, due to their own handiwork.  Susan, or Mrs. Hastings, as they called her, looked the picture of a kindly, dignified matron.  Her grey hair was done in a simple, becoming fashion, and ornamented with a spray of silver tinsel leaves.  The grey satin gown of Mrs. Allen’s, which Patty had appropriated without compunction, fitted fairly well, and a fichu of old lace, prettily draped, concealed any deficiencies.  Though possessing no elegance of manner, Susan had quiet ways, and being observant by nature, she remembered the demeanour of ladies she had worked for, and carried herself so well that Patty and Mona were satisfied as to her ability to carry out their purpose.

Patty provided Mrs. Hastings with a black feather fan, and gave her a quick lesson in the art of using it.  The piece of white knitting work proved satisfactory on inspection, and after a few final injunctions, Patty pronounced the “chaperon” complete.

Then she called for Janet, and hastily proceeded to make her own toilette.  She chose a white silk muslin, dotted with tiny pink rosebuds, and further ornamented with fluttering ends of pale pink ribbon.  The frock was cut a little low at the throat, and had short sleeves, and very cool and sweet Patty looked in it.  Her gold curls were piled high on her head, and kept there by a twist of pink ribbon.  She wore no jewelry, and the simple attire was very becoming to the soft, babyish curves of her neck and dimpled arms.

Mona appeared in rose-coloured chiffon, richly embroidered.  The gown, though beautiful of itself, was not appropriate for such a warm night; but Mona had not Patty’s sense of harmony, and had added a heavy necklace and bracelets of wrought Roman gold.

“You’ll melt in all that toggery!” said Patty, bluntly, and Mona sighed as she saw Patty’s diaphanous frock.  Then, led by Mrs. Hastings, they went down to the drawing-room.  They put Susan through a few lessons in introductions, practised calling her “Aunt Rachel,” and bolstered up her failing courage by telling her how well she looked.

The first guest to arrive was Jack Pennington.  Being a graceful mannered boy he acknowledged his introduction to Mrs. Hastings with just the correct blending of deference and cordiality.  “Isn’t it warm?” he said, and as this required no answer save, “It is, indeed,” Susan acquitted herself creditably, and even refrained from saying “indade.”  Then the others came, and being a merry crowd of young people, they merely paused for a word or two with the elderly stranger, before turning away to their own interests.  And, if by chance, one or two showed a tendency to linger and converse with her, Patty and Mona were at hand to take up the burden of the conversation.

After all had arrived, Patty conducted Susan to a pleasant seat near an open window, provided her with her knitting and a book, and gave her a whispered permission to doze a little if she wished to.