“Nothing of the sort!” Kit exclaimed.  “She’s the sweetest, daintiest, refinedest, culturedest little thing you ever saw!”

“How do you know?  You haven’t seen her.”

“No, but I’ve talked with her.  I guess I know.”  And Kit turned decidedly sulky, for he began to think it was rather doubtful about his seeing his girl that evening.

And then the guests began to arrive, and Mr. Kit put on a smiling face and made himself agreeable to his cousin’s friends.

Patty came among the latest arrivals.  She looked her prettiest in a filmy gown of pale-blue chiffon, with touches of silver embroidery.  An ornament in her hair was of silver filigree, with a wisp of pale-blue feather, and her cheeks were a little pinker than usual.

Kit glanced at her as she came in, and, though he noticed that she was an extremely pretty girl, he immediately glanced away again and continued his watch for the black-eyed girl he expected.  The room was well filled by this time, and Patty took a seat near the front, where sat a group of her intimate friends.  They greeted her gaily, and Kit, on the other side of the room, paid no attention to them.

The programme began with a duet by Kit on his violin, and his Cousin Marie at the piano.

The man was really a virtuoso, and his beautiful playing held the audience spellbound.  Patty watched him, enthralled with his music, and admiring, too, his generally worth-while appearance.

“He does look awfully jolly,” she thought, to herself, “and it’s plain to be seen he has brains.  I wonder if he will be terribly disappointed in me, after all.  I’ve a notion to run away.”

For the first time in her life Patty felt shy about singing.  Usually she had no trace of self-consciousness, but to-night she experienced a feeling of embarrassment she had never known before.  She realized this, and scolded herself roundly for it.  “You idiot!” she observed, mentally, to her own soul; “if you want to make a good impression, you’d better stop feeling like a simpleton.  Now brace up, and do the best you can, and behave yourself!”

Miss Curtiss sang before Patty did.  She was a sweet-faced young woman, with a beautiful and well-trained contralto voice.  Patty cast a furtive glance at Kit Cameron, and found that he was looking intently at the singer.  She knew perfectly well he was wondering whether this might be the girl of the telephone conversations, and she saw, too, that he decided in the negative, for he shook his head slightly, but with conviction.

Suddenly the humour of the whole situation struck Patty.  The incident was not serious, but humorous, and as soon as she realised this her shyness disappeared, and the spirit of mischief once again took possession of her.  She knew now she would do herself credit when she sang, and when her turn came she rose and walked slowly and gracefully to the platform which had been temporarily placed for the musicians.