“Marie always has it when she’s here; but, of course, she was glad to give it up to you, and I put her in the blue room just across the hall.  Come now, powder your nose, we must run down to tea.  Don’t change your frock.”

Patty had worn a little silk house gown under her motor coat, so after a brief adjustment of her tumbled curls she was ready to go down.

The Perrys’ was a modern house of an elaborate type.  There were many rooms, on varying levels, so that one was continually going up or down a few broad steps.  Often the rooms were separated only by columns or by railings, which made the whole interior diversified and picturesque.

“Such a gem of a house!” exclaimed Patty, as she entered the tea-room.  “So many cosy, snuggly places,—­and so warm and balmy.”

She dropped into a lot of silken cushions that were piled in the corner of an inglenook, and placed her feet daintily on a footstool in front of the blazing fire.

“Awful dinky!” said Kit, as he pushed aside some cushions and sat down beside Patty, “but a jolly good house to visit in.”

“Yes, it is,” said Marie, who was nestled in an easy-chair the other side of the great fireplace.  “And it’s so light and pleasant.  We never get any sunlight, home.”

“Nonsense, Marie,” said Kit, “our apartments are unusually light ones.”

“Well, it’s a different kind of light,” protested Marie.  “It only comes from across the street, and here the light comes clear from the horizon.”

“It does,” agreed Mrs. Perry, “but we’re getting the very last rays now.  Ring for lights, Kit.”

“No, sister, let’s just have the firelight.  It’s more becoming, anyway.”

So Mrs. Perry merely turned on one pink-shaded light near the tea table and let her guests enjoy the twilight and firelight.

“Country life is ’way ahead of city existence,” remarked Kenneth, as he made himself useful in passing the teacups.  “The whole atmosphere is different.  When I marry and settle down, I shall be a country gentleman.”

“How interesting!” cried Patty.  “I should love to see you, Ken, superintending your gardener and showing him how to plant cabbages!”

“Dead easy,” retorted Kenneth; “I’d have a gardener show me first, and when the next gardener came I could show him.”

“Well, I don’t want to live in the country,” said Kit; “it’s great to visit here, that’s what sisters’ houses are for; but I couldn’t live so far away from the busy mart.  Back to the stones for mine.”

When their host, Dick Perry, arrived he came in with a genial, breezy manner and warmly welcomed the guests.

“Well, well!” he exclaimed, “this is a treat!  To come home at night and find a lot of gay and festive young people gathered around!  Lora, why don’t we do this oftener?  Nothing like a lot of young people to make a home merry.  How are you, Marie?  Glad to see you again, Miss Fairfield.”