“Stay here and brush out your hair, Patty,” said Marie, “and we can have a ‘kimono chat,’ all by ourselves.”

So Patty sat down at Marie’s toilet table, and began to brush out her golden curls.

“Did you like the ball, Patty?” asked Marie, as she braided her own dark hair.

“Lovely!  Everybody was so nice to me.  And you had a good time yourself, I know.  I saw you breaking hearts, one after another, you little siren.”

“Siren, yourself!  How did you like that Bell boy?”

“Gracious!  That sounds like a hotel attendant!  In fact I think ‘bellhop,’ as I believe they call them, wouldn’t be a bad name for Eddie Bell.  I liked him ever so much, but he was a little,—­well,—­ fresh is the only word that expresses it.”

“He is cheeky; but he doesn’t mean anything.  He’s a nice boy; I’ve known him for years.  He’s an awful flirt,—­but he admired you like everything.  Though as to that, who doesn’t?”

“Oh, I don’t think so much of this general admiration.  I think if a young girl isn’t admired, it’s her own fault.  She only has to be gay and pleasant and good-natured, and people are bound to like her.”

“Yes,” agreed Marie; “but there are degrees.  I’ll tell you who likes you an awful lot,—­and that’s Mr. Harper.”

“Oh, Kenneth;” Patty spoke carelessly, but she couldn’t prevent a rising blush.  “Why, Marie, we’ve been chums for years.  I used to know Ken Harper when I was a little girl and lived in Vernondale.  He’s a dear boy, but we’re just good friends.”

“I like him,” and Marie said this so ingenuously, that Patty gave her a quick look.  “Don’t you like anybody especially, Patty?”

“No, I don’t.  All boys look alike to me.  I like to have them to dance with, and to send me flowers and candy; and I don’t mind make-believe flirting with them; but the minute they get serious, I want to run away.”

“Aren’t you ever going to be engaged, Patty?”

“Nonsense!  Marie, we’re too young to think about such things.  After a few years I shall begin to consider the matter; and if I find anybody that I simply can’t live without, I shall proceed to marry him.  Now, curiosity-box, is there anything else you want to know?”

“I didn’t mean to be curious,” and Marie’s pretty face looked troubled; “but, Patty, I will ask you one more question:  Couldn’t you,—­couldn’t you like,—­specially, I mean,—­my cousin Kit?”

“Marie, I’ve a notion to shake you!  You little match-maker,—­or mischief-maker,—­stop getting notions into your head!  In the first place, I’ve known your paragon of a cousin only a few weeks; and in the second place, there’s no use going any further than the first place!  Now, you go to sleep, and dream about birds and flowers and sunshine, and don’t fill your pretty head with grown-up notions.”

“You’re a funny girl, Patty,” and Marie looked at her with big, serious eyes.