“You dear child,” Mrs. Brewster rattled on, “to think you haven’t had a mite of dinner!  Now I will get you something.”

“No, no, thank you,” laughed Patty, “I will confess that I ate all I wanted here in the pantry while the dinner was going on.  Cook sent up special portions for me, and I had plenty of time to do justice to them.”

“I’m glad of that,” said Mrs. Brewster, cordially, “and now, Miss Fairfield, come into the drawing-room.  I want my guests to know what a little heroine it is who waited on us at dinner.  What a girl you are!  I’ve often heard Adele Kenerley speak of you, and I’m so glad to know you.  You must come and make me a visit, won’t you, to prove that you forgive me for letting you wait on my table?”

“The pleasure was mine,” returned Patty, dropping a pretty curtsy.  Then they all went to the drawing-room, where Patty was praised and applauded till she blushed with confusion.

Farnsworth stood leaning against the mantel as she entered the room.  He waited till the introductions were over and until the hubbub roused by Patty’s story had subsided.  Then, as she stood beside her hostess, he went over to her, and said, “What is your greeting for me, Miss Fairfield?”

“I gave you my greeting at the table,” said Patty, and she flashed a glance at him from beneath her long lashes.

“Was it a greeting?”

But before Patty could answer, Mrs. Brewster came to her and said in her enthusiastic way, “Oh, Miss Fairfield, I’ve been telephoning Mrs. Kenerley and telling her all about it!  And what do you think?  She says that she and Jim are the only ones over there who know where you are, and they’re pretending they don’t know, and all the young people are crazy with anxiety!”

“I suppose I ought to go right home,” said Patty, “and relieve their anxiety.  But I’d like to stay a little while longer.  And, yet, I don’t want them to know where I’ve been, until I get there, and tell them myself.”

“Let them wait,” said Bob Peyton.  “It won’t hurt them to worry a little.  Now, Miss Fairfield, we’re going to have some music, and perhaps,—­as you’re such an angel of goodness to us anyway,—­perhaps you’ll sing for us.”

They all sang in chorus, and some sang solos, and after awhile it was Patty’s turn.

She had none of her elaborate music with her, so she told Mrs. Brewster she would sing any songs or ballads that she might happen to have.

They found a book of old songs, which Mr. Brewster declared were his favourites, and Patty sang two or three of those.

Among them was the old Scotch song of “Loch Lomond.”  Patty had never seen this, but as Mr. Brewster was fond of it he urged her to try it.  The song was not difficult and Patty read easily, so she made a success of it.  As she came to the lines, “I’ll take the high road and you take the low road,” she glanced at Farnsworth, with a half-smile.