She peacocked about the room, frankly delighted at her own reflection in the mirrors, and practised the pose she was to assume on the Float.

In the mirror she saw that a majestic figure was entering the room, and wheeling swiftly about, she beheld Father Neptune himself smiling at her.

Farnsworth had sent to a theatrical costumer in the city for his garb, and very handsome he looked in a dark green velvet robe that hung in classic folds.  He wore a snow-white wig and long white beard, and a gold and jewelled crown that was dazzlingly regal.  He carried a trident, and in all respects, looked the part as Neptune is so often pictured.  Patty gazed at him a moment in silent admiration, and then sprang to her pose, lightly poised forward, her weight on one foot, and her arms gracefully outspread.

Big Bill held his breath.  Always lithe and graceful, to-night Patty looked like a veritable spirit.  Her floating draperies, her golden hair, and her perfect face, crowned with the single silver star, seemed to belong to some super-human being, not to a mere mortal.

Big Bill walked slowly toward her.

“Patty!” he murmured, almost beneath his breath.  “Apple Blossom!  I want you so!”

A lovelier pink rose to Patty’s cheeks, for it was impossible to mistake the earnestness in Bill’s voice.  She smiled at him, gently for a moment, and then roguishly, and her dimples flashed into view, as she danced lightly away from him, calling back over her shoulder, “Catch me first!”

“You’ll say that once too often yet, my lady!” declared Farnsworth, as he stood with folded arms looking after her, but not following her dancing footsteps.

At the hall doorway, Patty turned and looked back, down the long room.  Farnsworth stood where she had left him, and his majestic pose, as he held his gilded trident, suited well his stalwart, magnificent physique.

“Come back here,” he said, and his voice was not dictatorial, but quietly compelling.

Slowly Patty danced down the room, swaying, as if in rhythm with unheard music.  As she came to a pause in front of Farnsworth, she made him a sweeping, mocking courtesy.

“Father Neptune, god of the Sea!” she said, as if offering homage.

Farnsworth raised his hand, dramatically.

“Spirit of the Sea,” he said, “Nymph of the silver-crested waves, kneel before me!”

Catching his mood, Patty sank gracefully on one knee, bowing her fair head before the majestic sea-god.

“I crown thee,” Neptune went on, “fairest of all nymphs, loveliest of all goddesses.  Spirit of the Sea, but also, maiden of the apple blossoms.”

Patty felt a light touch on her bowed head, but did not move, until a moment later, Neptune held out his hand.

“Rise, Spirit of the Sea, crowned by Neptune, god of the Ocean!”