“She doesn’t mean to tell you anything,” interrupted Patty.  “She’s only going to tell me.  I wish you’d go away.  This note matter is entirely between Daisy and myself.  It’s—­it’s a sort of a—­a joke, you see.”

Daisy sat up straight, and stared at Patty.  What sort of a girl was this, anyhow, who could forgive so freely and fully, and then call it all a joke!

But Daisy knew generosity when she saw it, and with her heart overflowing with gratitude at Patty’s kindness, she bravely acknowledged her own fault.

“It isn’t a joke, Bill,” she said, in an unsteady voice.  “I did a horrid, hateful thing, and Patty is so angelic and forgiving she makes me feel too mean to live.”

“Nonsense,” said Patty, “there’s no harm done, I’m glad you owned up, Daisy, for now we can forget the whole episode, and start fresh.”

But Farnsworth couldn’t toss the matter aside so easily.

“Daisy,” he said, looking at her sternly, “I never heard of such a mean piece of business in my life!  I think—­”

“Never mind what you think!” cried Patty, turning on him like a little fury.  “You’re the mean one,—­to rub it in when Daisy is feeling so bad over it.”

“She ought to feel bad,” growled Bill.

“Well, she does, if that’s such a comfort to you,” retorted Patty.  “Now, go away, and leave us girls alone, won’t you?  This is our own little sewing circle, and we don’t want any men at it.”

Patty was really so relieved at the turn things had taken, that she gave Bill a happy smile, which contradicted her crusty words.

“No, I won’t go away,” he declared; “you girls want to weep on each other’s shoulders,—­that’s what you want.  I’m going to stay and see the performance.”

“You can’t stay, unless you’ll say you forgive Daisy, and love her just the same.”

“Just the same as who?” demanded Bill, quickly, and Patty blushed adorably.

“Just the same as you always did,” she returned, severely.

“Do forgive me, Bill,” said Daisy, contritely; “I’m awfully sorry.”

Farnsworth looked at her, squarely.  “I’ll forgive you, Daisy,” he said, “if you’ll make good.  Let Patty take the Spirit of the Sea part, and you take something else.”

“I won’t do it,” said Patty, quickly, but Daisy said, “Yes, you must.  I shan’t feel that you’ve really forgiven me unless you do.”

As a matter of fact, Daisy saw little prospect of pleasure for herself in being Spirit of the Sea, after all this, and she doubted whether Bill would be Neptune if she did.

Patty demurred further, but both the others coaxed so hard that she finally yielded to their persuasions.

“What will the others say?” she asked, at last.

“Nothing at all,” responded Bill, promptly.  “Simply announce that you and Daisy have agreed to change parts.  Then Daisy can be ’Maid of the Mist,’ and you can be the Water Sprite of old Neptune’s float.”