It was nearly an hour before she opened her eyes, and then with a little yawn she lazily wondered if it were time to get up.  She glanced at the clock on her dressing-table, and as it was only half-past two, she felt sure that Adele would not come to her release until three o’clock.  She lay there, her eyes wandering idly about the room, when she saw a startling sight.  The floor, near her couch, was fairly strewn with sprays of apple blossoms.  At first she thought she must be dreaming, and rubbed her eyes to be sure she was awake.  Putting her hand down outside the silken coverlet, she touched a spray of blossoms, and picking it up looked at it wonderingly.  There could be no doubt.  They were real apple blossoms, and they were really there!  What could it mean?

“Of course,” she said to herself, “either Adele or Daisy came in while I was asleep and brought me these flowers, and sprinkled them on the floor for fun.  It must have been Daisy, for Adele is too busy.  How much nicer Daisy is than she used to be.  And maybe that’s not fair.  Probably she always was just as nice, only I wasn’t nice to her.  Or I didn’t know how to take her.  Oh, my gracious!”

The last words were spoken aloud, and in a very surprised voice, the reason for which was, that a lot of apple blossoms had come flying through the open window and landed on the floor beside her.  “It must be Daisy,” she thought, “Adele won’t let her in here, and she’s trying to get my attention this way!”

Patty scrambled off the couch, her long golden hair a tangled mass around her shoulders, and her blue silk negligee edged with swansdown draped about her.

She went to the window, which was a long French one, opening like doors onto a tiny balcony.  She stepped out on the balcony and looked down.

[Illustration:  “Bill!” she cried, “Little Billee!”]

And then, in her surprise, she almost fell over the railing, for down below on the lawn, with his smiling face looking up into hers, stood,—­Bill Farnsworth.

Patty gave a squeal of delight.  “Bill!” she cried, “Little Billee”

“Look out, Apple Blossom!” he called back, in his big, cheery voice, “don’t fall out of that balcony, and break your blessed neck!  But if you want to jump, I’ll catch you,” and he held out his arms.

“No!  I don’t want to jump!  Oh, Little Billee, I didn’t know you were coming!  Did you throw in the apple blossoms?”

“No, no, oh, no!  A passing highwayman threw those in!  Why, what made you think I’d do such a thing?”

“Only because you still have a few left in your pockets,” said Patty, laughing, for, sure enough, Bill had ends of blossom sprays sticking out of all his pockets.

“You see I didn’t know how many it would take to wake you up,” he said.

“How did you know I was up here?”

“Daisy told me.  Adele wouldn’t tell me,—­said you must sleep, or some such foolishness.  Get into your togs and come down, won’t you?”