“Do you want any supper, Miss Patty?” asked Louise, as she unhooked Patty’s frock.

“No, thank you, I’m not a bit hungry.  You might bring me a cup of milk and a biscuit, and then give me a kimono.  I’m not going to bed just yet.”

So Louise arranged everything just as Patty wanted it, and finally went away.

“May as well be comfortable,” said Patty, as she tucked herself into a favourite big chair, with the telephone on a little stand beside her.  “I suppose I’ll run up a fine bill for extra time, but, after all, it’s less extravagant than a good many other things.  Wonder how much they charge for overtime.  I must ask Daddy.”

With a smile of anticipation Patty picked up the telephone.

“Hello!” said Mr. Cameron’s eager voice.  “I thought you’d never come.  I’ve been waiting since ten.”

“I’ve been to the opera,” said Patty, nonchalantly.  “And you’ve no reason to sit and wait for me!  I’m not a dead certainty, like the sunrise or the postman.”

“You’re more welcome than either.”

“Now that’s a real pretty speech.  Are you a poet?”

“Only to you.”

“Did you get the pictures?” Patty was unable longer to restrain her impatience.

“Of course I got the pictures.  I knew yours at once!  You needn’t think you can fool me.”

“Which was mine?  The girl with the black curls?”

“Mercy, no!  I know you’re not that type.  She looks like an actress, and hasn’t a brain in her silly head.  And you’re not that lackadaisical lily-like one, either.  Oh, I know you!  You’re that delightful, sensible, really brainy girl with the smooth black hair.”

“Oh, I am, am I?”

“Yes; and I’m so glad you’re not a rattle-pated beauty!  What’s a pretty face compared to real mind and intellect!”

Patty was furious.  She didn’t aspire to nor desire this great mind and intellect, and she was quite satisfied with the amount of brains in her pretty, curly head.

“I don’t think much of your taste!” she exclaimed.

“Why! you don’t want me to be disappointed because you’re not pretty, do you?”

“But I am pretty.”

“Yes; as I said, the beauty of deep thought and education shines from your clear eyes.  That is far better than dimples and curls.”

Patty shook her curls at the telephone and her dimples came and went with her varying emotions.

“Why, I shouldn’t like you half as well if you were pretty,” Mr. Cameron went on.  “The only things I consider worth while are seriousness and scholarship.  These you have in abundance, as I can see at once from your picture.”

“And how do you like the way I dress?”

“It suits your type exactly.  That large black-and-white check denotes a mind far above the frivolities of fashion, and that stiff white collar, to my mind, indicates a high order of mentality.”