“I’ll do it, on one condition,” said Patty; “and that is, that no one else is let into our secret.  Let Guy continue to think that I sent him that note, but that I changed my mind about it.  And don’t tell anybody at all, not even Mona, the truth of the matter.”

“Gee!  You’re a wonder!” exclaimed Farnsworth, and Daisy threw her arms round Patty’s neck and kissed her.

“Oh, don’t give me undue credit,” Patty said, laughing; “but, you see, I just naturally hate a ‘fuss,’ and I want to forget all about this affair right away.  Daisy, you’re just the sort of brown hair and eyes Mr. Cromer wants for his Maid of the Mist.  You’ll be perfectly sweet in that.”

“You’re perfectly sweet in everything, Patty; I never saw any one like you!”

“Neither did I,” said Farnsworth, with emphasis.

“Oh, here you are,” drawled a slow voice, and Laurence Cromer came sauntering along in search of Patty.  “Don’t you want to discuss your costume now?  There’s only a half-hour before luncheon time.”

“Well, you see, Mr. Cromer,” said Patty, smiling at him, “you said you wanted a more brownish lady for your misty maid.  So Miss Dow and I have decided to change places.”

“All right,” agreed Cromer.  “It makes no difference to me, personally, of course.  I’m merely designing the Niagara Float as an architect would.  I think perhaps a brunette would be better adapted to the part of Maid of the Mist, as I have planned it, but it’s as you choose.”

“Then we choose this way,” declared Patty.

“Run along, Daisy, and Mr. Cromer will tell you just what to get for your misty robes.”

Daisy went away, and Farnsworth turned to Patty with a reproachful glance.

“You let her off too easy,” he said.  “A girl who would do a thing like that ought to be punished.”

“Punished, how?” said Patty, quietly.

“Her deceit ought to be exposed before the others.  It oughtn’t to be hushed up,—­it makes it too easy for her.”

“Her deceit, as you call it, affected no one but me.  Therefore, there’s no reason for any one else to know of it.  And Daisy has been punished quite enough.  I read in her eyes the sorrow and remorse she has suffered for what she did.  And I know she did it on a sudden impulse,—­an uncontrollable desire to have that particular part in the Pageant.  Now, I have forgiven and forgotten it all, it’s but a trifle.  And I can see no reason why you should still hold it against her.”

Farnsworth looked steadily into Patty’s eyes, and a sort of shamed flush rose to his cheeks.

“You’re bigger than I am, Little Girl,” he said, as he held out his hand.

Patty put her little hand into his, and in that understanding clasp, they buried the subject never to refer to it again.

“Oh, no, I’m not really bigger than you,” she said, lightly.

“Not physically, no,” he returned, looking down at her.  “If you were, I couldn’t toss you into a treetop!”