“If you want to know, Daisy, that was because he didn’t want to dance with me.  He said he only asked me because Adele insisted upon it.”

“Patty, it’s none of my business, but I do think you might be nicer to Bill, for I know he thinks an awful lot of you.”

“Why, Daisy Dow! why should he think a lot of me when he’s as good as engaged to another girl?”

“Engaged!  Bill Farnsworth engaged! nothing of the sort.  I know better.”

“But he is.  Adele told me so.  Or, if he isn’t engaged, he’s very much in love with a girl named Kitty.  Do you know her?”

“Kitty who?  Where is she?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure.  But he told Adele his whole heart and life were bound up in this Kitty Somebody.  So I’m sure I don’t see any reason why I should be running after him.”

“I can’t imagine you running after anybody, Patty.  You don’t need to, for the boys all run after you.  But it’s very queer I never heard of this Kitty.  I’ve known Bill for years.  Let me see; there was Kate Morton,—­but I never thought Bill cared especially for her.  And anyway, I can’t imagine calling her Kitty!  She’s as tall and straight as an Indian!”

“Well, Bill calls her Kitty; Adele said so.”

“Oh, is it Kate Morton, then?  Did Adele say that?”

“No, Adele said she couldn’t remember the girl’s last name.  And I don’t care if it’s Kate Morton or Kathleen Mavourneen!  It’s nothing to me what kind of a girl Bill Farnsworth likes.”

“Of course it isn’t.  I know you never liked Bill.”

“I did so!  I do like him, but just the same as I like all the other boys.”

“Then what makes you turn pink every time Bill’s name is mentioned, and never when you speak of anybody else?”

“I don’t!  And if I did, it wouldn’t mean anything.  I’m not specially interested in anybody, Daisy, but if I were, I wouldn’t sit up and blush about it.  You like Bill an awful lot, yourself.”

“I do like him,” said Daisy, frankly; “and I always have.  He’s a splendid man, Patty, one of the biggest, best natures I know.  Why, at school we used to call him Giant Greatheart,—­he was so thoroughly noble and kind to everybody.”

“Well, I’m sick of hearing his praises sung, so you’ll please change the subject.”

Daisy was quite willing to do this, for she had no wish to annoy Patty, and the girls chatted of other matters until Adele came along and sent them both to bed.

The next day was Sunday, and Patty didn’t come downstairs until time for the midday dinner.

“I think you might have come down earlier,” said Van Reypen, reproachfully, as Patty came smilingly down the staircase.  “I wanted you to go for a walk this morning; it’s simply great out in the sunshine.”

“I’ll go after dinner,” said Patty; “isn’t it funny why people have dinner at one o’clock, just because it’s Sunday?”