“I don’t know what’s come over Kit,” returned Marie, looking perplexed.  “He’s been the funniest thing of late.  He has some girl in his mind—­”

“A girl!” exclaimed Patty; “I thought he scorned them.”

“Well, I can’t make this out.  It’s awfully mysterious.  I think I’ll tell you about it.”

“Do,” said Patty, demurely.

“Two or three weeks ago,—­in fact, it was the day after my valentine party,—­Kit asked me which of my friends had telephoned me late the night before.  You know he lives in the apartment just above ours, and it seems the wires were crossed or something, but he heard this girl’s voice, and now he insists he wants to meet her.  I don’t think Elise Farrington has such a fascinating voice, do you?” “Elise!” exclaimed Patty, in pretended surprise; “what has she to do with it?”

“Why,” explained Marie, “Elise did call me up that night, to say she had left her scarf.  But how Kit discovered that she was a red-cheeked brunette, is more than I can understand.  You can’t know that from a voice, now, can you?”

“No,” said Patty, decidedly, “you can’t!”

“Well, then, a week or two went by, and I told Elise about this, but somehow I couldn’t manage to get them together.  Every time Elise came to our house, Kit would be away somewhere.  But a few days ago I did manage to have them meet.”

“Did you?” exclaimed Patty; “for gracious sake, what happened?”

Marie looked a little surprised at Patty’s excited interest, but she went on:  “Oh, it was awfully funny.  Elise looked lovely that day.  She had just come in from skating, and her cheeks were red and her eyes sparkled, and her furs were so becoming!  I introduced Kit, and I could see he admired her immensely.  There were several people there, so I left these two together.  They were getting on famously, when Kit said to her, ‘Are you still a Captive Princess?’

“I didn’t know what he meant, and Elise didn’t either, for she looked perfectly blank, and asked him why he said that.  And Kit told her she knew well enough why he said it, and Elise thought he must be crazy.  However, they got along all right until Kit asked me to get Elise to sing.  Now, you know Elise doesn’t sing much; she has a nice little contralto voice, but she never sings for people.  But do you know, she was perfectly willing, and she sang a little lullaby or something like that, rather sweetly, I thought.  But such a change came over Kit’s manner!  I don’t know how to express it.  He was polite and courteous, of course; but he seemed to have lost all interest in Elise.”

“But your cousin is a sort of a freak, isn’t he?” said Patty, who was deeply interested in Marie’s story.

“Why, no, he isn’t a freak.  He’s a musician, but he’s an awfully nice chap, and real sensible.  He hates society as a bunch, but he often likes an individual here and there, and when he does he can be awfully nice and friendly.  But this whole performance was so queer.  He wanted to meet Elise, and when he did, he admired her, I could see that; but when she sang, the light all went out of his face, and he looked terribly disappointed.  The girl isn’t a great singer, but why in the world should he expect her to be, or care so much because she isn’t?”