“I knew it was right!” exclaimed the voice, exultantly; “and I shall find you very soon.”

“Then I shall await your coming with interest.  You prefer brunettes, do you?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I have always admired blondes more, but I’m quite willing to change my tastes for you.  Do you sing?”

For answer, Patty sang softly into the telephone, the little song of “Beware, take care, she is fooling thee.”

Although she did little more than hum it, Mr. Cameron was greatly impressed with her voice.

“By jove!” he exclaimed.  “You can sing!  Now, I can find you easily.  There are not many voices like that in this wicked world.”

“Do you sing yourself?  But I don’t want to know, I haven’t the least interest in a stranger, and besides, I’m going to ring off now.”

“Oh, wait a minute!  I don’t sing, but I do something better.  Don’t ring off, just listen a minute.”

Patty listened, and in a moment she heard a violin played softly.  It was played by a master hand, and she heard an exquisite rendition of the “Spring Song.”

“Beautiful!” she exclaimed, as the last notes died away, and then suddenly realising that she herself was acting in a most unconventional manner, she said abruptly, “Thank you; good-bye,” and quickly hung up her receiver.

For some time she sat thinking about it.  Curled up in a big easy chair, her blue silk boudoir gown trailing around her, she sat giggling over her escapade.

“It’s all right,” she assured herself, “for of course I know who he is, though he doesn’t know me.  He is Mrs. Homer’s nephew, so it’s just the same as if I had met him properly.  And, anyhow, he hasn’t an idea who I am, and he never can find out from the description he has of me!”

Still giggling over the episode, Patty went to bed and to sleep.

The next morning, as she thought it over, she realised that she hadn’t succeeded in securing her fan, and she determined to go around and see Marie that afternoon, and get it.

So that afternoon she went to make her call.

“It was a beautiful party,” she said to Marie, as the two girls chatted together.  “I love games for a change from dancing, and the games you had were so novel.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” said Marie, “for I was afraid they would seem too childish.”

“No, indeed,” returned Patty; “and now put on your hat and come out with me for a little while.  I’m going to a picture exhibition, and I’d love to have you go too.  But first, did I leave my fan here last evening?”

“There was a beautiful fan left here,—­an Empire fan.  Is this yours?”

Marie produced the fan and Patty recognised it as her own.

“But I can’t go this afternoon,” said Marie, “because Cousin Kit is coming down to practise some new music.  Won’t you stay and hear him play?  He is really a very good violinist.”