“Bill.  That’s another reason why you’d better be the Sea Spirit.”

“Nonsense!” and Patty was angry at herself to feel the blush that rose to her cheek.  But Daisy made no comment, and in a moment she said suddenly: 

“Patty, write a note for me, will you?  I’ve run a sliver into my forefinger and I can’t hold a pen.”

“A sliver?  Oh, Daisy, does it hurt?”

“No, not much now.  I got it out.  But the tip of my finger is painful if I write.  You’ve your pen in your hand, so just scribble a line for me.  I can sign it.”

“Of course I will.  Dictate, please!”

Patty took a fresh sheet of paper, and tried to look like a professional amanuensis.

“I really would rather not be the Spirit of the Sea,” dictated Daisy, and Patty wrote obediently.  “Please try to get some one else for the part.  But may I ask you as a personal favour not to speak of the matter to me at any time.”

“Thank you,” said Daisy, taking the paper from Patty and folding it.  “I can sign it, even if I have to use my left hand.  I’m going to give it to Mr. Martin for, somehow, I don’t want to talk about the matter to him.”

“I don’t see why,” said Patty, a little puzzled.

“Never mind, girlie.  You know sometimes there are little foolish reasons we don’t like to tell of.  Don’t say anything about all this to anybody, will you?”

“No, certainly not,” said Patty, wonderingly.

“Don’t tell any one I asked you to write the note.”

“No.”

“You see, I hate to acknowledge a hurt finger.  It sounds so silly.”

The whole affair seemed silly to Patty, for she could see no reason why Daisy shouldn’t tell Guy that she didn’t want to be Spirit of the Sea.  But it was none of her affair, and as Daisy went away she put the whole matter out of her mind.  After making a leisurely toilette, she went downstairs and found a group of young people having tea on the veranda.  Her appearance was hailed with shouts of joy.  Seats were offered her in every choice position, but the pleading look in Farnsworth’s big blue eyes persuaded her to sit beside him in a broad, red-cushioned swing.

“You’re all right, little girl, aren’t you?” he said, anxiously, and Patty laughed gaily up at him as she answered, “Yes, indeed! and all ready for another adventure, if you’ll take care of me!”

“You apple blossom!” whispered Bill.  “I won’t hold you to your word, but I’d like to.  Do you know, I’ve promised to be Father Neptune in this dinky parade they’re getting up.  Won’t I be the gay old Sea Dog!  I hope you’ll be the Spirit of the Sea.”

“That isn’t decided; don’t ask me about it yet,” said Patty, who had no mind to commit herself until Guy should ask her definitely to take the part.  Though since Lora couldn’t take it, and Daisy wouldn’t, she felt pretty sure it would fall to her.