“Well, half-past twelve,” agreed Nan, “and not a minute later!”

Then Louise wrapped Patty in a light blue evening cloak, edged with white fur, and the happy maiden danced downstairs.

“Good-bye, Popsy-Poppet,” she cried, looking in at the library door.

“Bless my soul! what a vision of beauty!” and Mr. Fairfield laid down his paper to look at his pretty daughter.

“Yes,” she said, demurely, “everybody tells me I look exactly like my father.”

“You flatter yourself!” said Nan, who had followed, and who now tucked her hand through her husband’s arm.  “My Valentine is the handsomest man in the world!”

“Oh, you turtle-doves!” said Patty, laughing, as she ran down the steps to the waiting motor.

Unless going with a chaperon, Patty was always accompanied by the maid, Louise, who either waited for her young mistress in the dressing-room or returned for her when the party was over.

“Shall you be late, Miss Patty?” she asked, as they reached their destination.

“Yes; don’t wait for me, Louise.  Come back about half-past twelve; I’ll be ready soon after that.”

Louise adored Patty, for she was always kind and considerate of the servants; and she thought Louise might as well have the evening to herself, as to be cooped up in a dressing-room.

The party was at Marie Homer’s, a new friend, with whom Patty had but recently become acquainted.

The Homers lived in a large apartment house, called The Wimbledon, and it was Patty’s first visit there.  Miss Homer and her mother were receiving their guests in a ballroom, and when Patty greeted them, a large crowd had already assembled.

“You are a true valentine, my dear,” said Mrs. Homer, looking admiringly at Patty’s garlanded gown.

“And this is a true Valentine party,” said Patty, as she noted the decorations of red hearts and gold darts, with Cupids of wax or bisque, here and there among the floral ornaments.

Marie Homer, who was a pretty brunette, wore a dress of scarlet and gold, trimmed with hearts and arrows.

“I’m so glad to have you here,” she said to Patty; “for now I know my party will be a success.”

“I’m sure your parties always are,” returned Patty, kindly, for Marie was a shy sort of girl, and Patty was glad to encourage her.

As soon as the guests had all arrived St. Valentine appeared in the doorway.

It was Mr. Homer, but he was scarcely recognisable in his garb of the good old Saint.

He wore a red gown, trimmed with ermine, and a long white beard and wig.

He carried an enormous letter-bag, from which he distributed valentines to all.  They were of the old-fashioned lace paper variety, and beautiful of their kind.

Mrs. Homer explained that on the valentine of every young man was a question, and the girl whose valentine had an answer to rhyme with it, was his partner for the first dance.