“I don’t know whether I am or not.  I’m a little bewildered as yet.  But I think, in fairness, I shall have to admit it was a most successful practical joke,—­as such jokes go.”

“And it fulfilled all your conditions?” asked Cameron, eagerly.

“I’m not sure of that.  We agreed that it must be clever and not unkind.  It was certainly clever, but wasn’t it a little unkind to cause trouble to so many people?  Mrs. Homer, for instance?”

“No!” exclaimed Kit, hastily.  “I telephoned last evening to auntie, and told her that there was probability that the quarantine would be lifted to-day.  I telephoned the same thing to Mrs. Fairfield, but I told both ladies not to mention that to you girls, as I didn’t want to raise false hopes.  Oh, I looked out for every point, and you’re not angry with me, are you, Princess?”

He was so wheedlesome and so boyish in his enjoyment of the joke, that Patty hadn’t the heart to scold him, nor was she sure she had any reason to do so.

“I admit it,” she said, “you certainly did play a practical joke on me successfully, though I didn’t think you could.  You have won the wager, and I shall of course pay my debt.  But just now, I’m interested in the fact that we’re going home.  And yet,” she added, turning to her hostess, “isn’t it funny?  Now that we can go, I don’t want to go!  Now it seems like a house party again.”

Patty beamed around on them all, and seemed a different girl from the Patty of the last twenty-four hours.

“You were a brick!” said Kenneth, “through it all.  I know how you suffered, but you bravely forgot yourself in trying to make it pleasant for the others.”

“Nonsense!  I acted like a pig!  A horrid, round, fat pig!  But, truly, it was the most different sensation to be quarantined here or to be visiting here.  I wouldn’t believe, if I hadn’t tried it, what a difference there is!  Oh, it’s just lovely here, now!” and Patty executed a little fancy dance, singing a merry little song to it.

“Well, I’ll tell you how to get even,” said Mrs. Perry; “all of you come up here again soon, for a little visit, and leave Kit at home!  Then I guess he’ll be sorry.”

At this, Kit emitted a wail of grief and anguish, and then the girls ran away to pack their things for the homeward trip.

Within the hour, they had started for New York.  Patty had entirely forgiven Cameron, and was ready to enjoy the memory of the affair as a good joke upon herself.

“I don’t approve of practical jokes,” she said, by way of summing up.  “I never did, and I don’t now.  But I know that I brought it on myself by making that foolish bet, and it has taught me a lesson never to do such a thing again.  And I forgive you, Mr. Kit Cameron, only on condition that you give me your promise never to play a joke on me again.  I admit that you can do it, but I ask that you won’t do it.”

“I promise, Princess,” said Cameron.  “Henceforward, there shall be no jokes between us,—­of course, I mean practical jokes.  But you will make good your wager?”