“I don’t carry on,” said Patty, laughing.

“I didn’t say you carried on,” returned Kenneth, who took everything seriously.  “I meant you carried on conversations that are full of wit and repartee, of a sort that I can’t get off.”

“Nobody wants you to, you dear old Ken!  You wouldn’t be half as nice if you were as foolish and frivolous as these society chatterboxes!  You’ve got more sterling worth and real intellect in your make-up than they ever dreamed of.  Now, stop your nonsense and come on and dance.  But—­don’t undertake to lecture Patty Fairfield,—­she won’t stand for it!”

“I didn’t mean to lecture you, Patty,” and Kenneth spoke very humbly.  “But when I saw you tucked away behind those palms, flirting with that yellow-headed rattle-pate, I felt that I ought to speak to you.”

“You spoke, all right!” and Patty looked at him severely.  “But you know perfectly well, Kenneth Harper, that I wasn’t doing anything I oughtn’t to.  You know perfectly well that, though I like what you call ‘flirting,’ I’m never the least bit unconventional and I never forget the strictest law of etiquette and propriety.  I’d scorn to do such a thing!”

Patty’s blue eyes were blazing now with righteous indignation, for Kenneth had been unjust, and Patty would not stand injustice.  She was punctilious in matters of etiquette, and she had not overstepped any bounds by sitting out a dance in that alcove, which was a part of the ballroom and a refuge for any one weary of dancing.

“And you know perfectly well, Kenneth,” she went on, “that you didn’t think I was unconventional, or anything of the sort.  You were only——­”

Patty paused, for she didn’t quite want to say what was in her mind.

“You’re right, Little Patty,” and Kenneth looked her straight in the eyes; “you’re right.  I was jealous.  Yes, and envious.  It always hurts me to see you laughing and talking in that darling little way of yours, and to know that I can’t make you talk like that.  I wish I weren’t such a stupid-head!  I wish I could say things that would make you play your pretty fooleries with me.”

Patty looked at him in amazement.  She had never suspected that serious-minded, hard-working Kenneth had anything but scorn for men of less mental calibre and quicker wit.

“Why, Kenneth,” she said, gently, “don’t talk like that.  My friendship for you is worth a dozen of these silly foolery flirtations with men that I don’t care two cents for.”

“I don’t want your friendship, Patty,” and Kenneth’s deep voice trembled a little; “I mean I don’t want only your friendship.  And yet I know I can’t hope for anything more.  I’m too dull and commonplace to attract a beautiful butterfly like you.”

“Kenneth,” and Patty gave him a glance, gentle, but a little bewildered, “you’re out of your head.  You have a splendid head, Kenneth, full of wonderful brains, but you’re out of it.  You get yourself back into it as quick as you can!  And don’t let’s dance this dance, please; I am tired.  I wish you’d take me to Mrs. Perry.”