And then a second rose followed the first, and others, at intervals, until a good-sized heap lay at Patty’s feet.

Laughing in spite of herself, she went to the window, and peeped out between the curtains.

“Why, it’s you!” she exclaimed, as if she hadn’t known it all the time.

“Yes,” and Big Bill smiled at her over the armful of roses he still held.  “I’ve completely stripped the rose garden, but I had to bombard you with something!”

“Are you a bombardier?”

“No, I’m a beggar.  I’m begging you to come out here for a few minutes and see the moonlight on the ocean.”

“Why, there isn’t any moon!”

“That’s so!  I mean the sun.”

“Well, the sun isn’t quite up yet!”

“That’s so!  Well, I mean the—­the stars,—­there, I knew something was shining!”

Bill’s laugh was so infectious that Patty couldn’t help joining it, but she said: 

“I can’t, Little Billee.  It’s too late, and I’m too tired, and—­”

“But I’m going away to-morrow.”

“You are!  I didn’t know.”

“Do you care?  Oh, Patty, come out for a minute, I want to tell you something.”

Still in her green draperies and silver wreath, Patty stepped out on the veranda, saying, “Just for a tiny minute, then.”

Bill had discarded his Neptune trappings, and in evening dress, was his handsome self again.

“You were fine as Neptune,” said Patty, looking at him critically as he stood against a veranda pillar, “but you’re better as a plain man.”

“Thank you!” said Bill, ironically.

“Fishing!  Well, I didn’t mean that you’re plain, but,—­I won’t say what I did mean.”

“Oh, dear!  Another fond hope shattered!  I wish I knew what you did mean!”

“Don’t be silly, or I’ll run back.  If you’ll promise not to be silly, I’ll stay another minute.”

“But, you see, I never know when I am silly.”

“Almost always!  Now let’s talk about the Pageant.  Didn’t Daisy look pretty?”

“Yes.  But I fancy blondes myself.”

“Now that’s ambiguous.  I don’t know whether you mean because you’re one or because I’m one.”

“Why!  So you are a blonde, aren’t you?  I never noticed it before!”

“Really?  How nice!  I’ve always wondered how I’d strike an entire stranger!”

“Why strike him at all?”

“Now you’re silly again!  But I mean, I’d like to know what an utter stranger would think of me.”

“I hate to be called an utter stranger, but I haven’t the least objection to saying what I think of you.  In fact, I’d like to!  May I?”

“Is it nice?” asked Patty, frightened a little at Bill’s quiet tones.

“Judge for yourself.  I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,—­and the most fascinating.  I think you have the sweetest nature and disposition imaginable.  I think you have just enough perversity to give you the Zip you need.”