"i think you're just as mean as you can be, patty fairfield! you won't come to my tree and you won't have the house sale, and you won't do a thing anybody wants you to! i never saw such a disagreeable old thing as you are!"

"why, elise, you dear little, sweet, 'bused child! am i as bad as all that? you do su'prise me! well, well, i must mend my ways. i've always had a reputation for good nature, but it seems to be slipping awa' jean, like snow in the thaw, jean,—as the song book says. now, my friend and pardner, here's my ultimatum. but smile on me, first, or i can't talk to you at all. you look like a thunder cloud,—a very pretty thunder cloud, to be sure,—but still, lowering and threatening. brace up, idol of my heart,—shine out, little face, sunning over with raven black curls,—i seem to be poetically inclined, don't i?"

elise laughed in spite of herself. the two girls had been discussing plans, and as patty stuck to her determination to spend christmas eve at the blaneys', elise was angry, because she was to have her own christmas tree that night, and, of course, wanted patty with her.

they were in the farringtons' library. it was nearly dusk, and patty was just about to get her hat to go home, when they began the controversy afresh.

"i can't help laughing, because you're so silly, but i'm angry at you all the same," elise averred, with a shake of her dark, curly head. "you're so wrapped up in the blaneys and their idiotic old crowd, that you have no time or attention for your old friends."

"it does seem so," mused patty; "of course, it might be, because the idiotic crowd are nice and pleasant to me, while my old friends, one of them, at least, is as cross as a bear with a bumped head."

"well, you're enough to make me cross. here i'm going to have a big

christmas tree, and a lovely christmas party, and you won't come to it.

that makes me cross, but to have you throw me over for those ridiculous

blaneys makes me crosser yet."

"you can't get much crosser, you're about at the limit."

"no, i'm not, either. it makes me still crosser that you won't have the house sale."

"oh, elise, it's such a nuisance! turn the whole place upside down and inside out, for a few dollars! let's get the money by subscription. everybody would be glad to give something for the girls' library."

"no, they won't. everybody has been asked for money for charity all winter, and they're tired of it. but a novel sale would bring in a lot."

patty and elise were greatly interested in getting a library for the working girls' club, which they helped support. patty was usually most enthusiastic and energetic in furnishing any project for helping this work along, and elise was greatly surprised at her present unwillingness to hold a sale they had been considering.

"and it's only because you're crazy over that cosmic club that you can't bother with the things that used to interest you. phil van reypen thinks they're a horrid lot, and so does chick channing, and i do, too."

"you forget that it was down at your house in lakewood that i first met them."

"no, i don't; but that's no reason you should go over to them so entirely, and forsake all of your old set. i never liked the blaneys; i only wanted you to meet them, to see how queer and eccentric they were. but i never supposed you'd join their ranks, and become so infatuated with sam blaney——"

"i'm not infatuated with sam blaney!"

"you are so! you think he's a genius and a poet and a little tin god on wheels!"

"well, all right, elise, then i do think so. and i've got a right to think so, if i want to. now, listen, and stop your foolishness. i said i'd give you my decision, and this is it. i'll come round here christmas eve after the party at the blaneys'. i've got to go to that, for i'm going to dance, and i'm going to be in some 'living pictures,' but i can get away by eleven, or soon after, and that will be in time for your dance."

"well, half a loaf is better than no bread,—i'll have the tree late, then. after you get here."

"oh, no, don't put off your tree! i might not be able to get here much before midnight."

"yes, you will. you've promised me for eleven, and you always keep a promise,—i know that. i'll send for you, and you must come."

"all right, i will. truly, elise, i want to be at the tree here,—but

i couldn't help the two engagements clashing. now, also, to show you

that i haven't lost interest in the girls' club, i'll have the house

sale after the holidays are over."

"oh, will you, patty? you're a dear old thing!"

"and amn't i mean and horrid, and a deserter?"

"well, you're a bit of a deserter, and i suppose you'll rush off to a

cosmic meeting the night of the sale, and leave me to run it!"

"you're mean, now, elise. you know i wouldn't do such a thing,—unless——"

"unless what?"

"unless it happened to be on a night of a special meeting of the cosmic

centre. in that case, i'd have to go for a little while."

just then van reypen came in.

"you here, patty?" he said. "i've been looking you up. how are you,

elise? what are you girls confabbing about?"

"i'm scolding patty for her desertion of us and her infatuation for those blaney people."

"confound those blaney people! i wish they were in timbuctoo!"

"why, philip, how unkind!" and patty smiled at him in an exasperating way. "you know you admire sam blaney immensely,—only you're jealous of him."

"admire him! jealous of him!" van reypen fairly glowered with indignation. "that nincompoop! with long hair and a green neck-tie! he's a half-witted farmer!"

patty's laugh rang out. "oh, phil," she cried, "don't be a silly, yourself! his worst enemy couldn't call sam a farmer! and i can assure you, he's far from half-witted."

"yes, far less than half," growled van reypen. "oh, patty, drop 'em, cut 'em out, give 'em the go-by, won't you?"

"thank you, no. i still reserve the right to choose my friends, and i confess to a liking for those who are kindly disposed toward me."

"oh, i'm kindly disposed toward you, very much so," declared phil, "but your new friends are not included in my kindly disposition."

"so i gathered," and patty laughed again. "but, do you know, they feel that they can struggle along without your admiration and affection."

"don't be sarcastic, patty," and van reypen smiled at the haughty little face turned toward his.

"no, i won't, phil. i hate it. and i'm sorry i let myself go like that. but you do stir me up,—you and elise."

"glad of it," said elise, "you ought to be stirred up once in a while. but don't go, patty. here comes daisy,—and, well, if it isn't bill farnsworth with her! i didn't know he was in town. he's in and out so much, it's hard to keep track of him. come in, daisy, take off your furs. glad to see you, bill. here's patty fairfield."

"so i see," laughed farnsworth, as he held out his hand. "going? why go yet? hello, van reypen."

"hello, bill. thought you were on your way to or from arizona. how do you know where to vote, anyhow?"

"guess at it. but i'm not going to live on the road so much as formerly. i've cleaned things up a bit, and shall sort of settle in new york from now on."

"good! glad to give you the freedom of our city. and you, daisy? are you going to live east, also?"

"haven't decided yet," and daisy glanced coquettishly at farnsworth.

"maybe so."

"don't you go yet, patty," begged elise. "stay a while longer, and we'll have tea,—chocolate, too, which i know you like better."

"'course i'll stay," said patty; "your chocolate is always the best ever. order it up. what beautiful violets, daisy."

"yes, bill bought them for me as we passed a florist's shop. i adore violets."

"what girl doesn't?" laughed patty. "at least she adores having them bought for her."

"i don't," said elise. "i'd rather have one rose than all the violets that ever bloomed in the spring, tra-la."

"what's your favourite flower, patty?" asked farnsworth.

"sunflowers, but nobody ever sends me any. i just get old orchids and things."

"poor kiddy! i wish i could get a sunflower or two for you. but i fancy, at this season of the year, they're about as scarce as blue roses."

"'it is but an idle quest, roses red and white are best,'"

sang patty, with a smile at big bill.

"do you know that?" he asked, interestedly. "i never heard you sing it."

"oh, it's one of her best songs," cried elise; "sing it now,

patty,—you'll have time before the chocolate comes."

"too much bother," said patty; "we'd have to go in the music room and all. i'll sing it for you some other time, little billee."

"all right," he responded, carelessly, and again patty felt a slight chagrin that he cared so little about the matter.

other people drifted in, as the young folks were apt to do at tea time, and then the chocolate arrived, and patty found herself provided with a welcome cup of her favourite beverage.

it was farnsworth who brought it to her, and he deliberately took a seat at her side, a seat that van reypen had just vacated.

"you can't sit there," said patty, quickly; "phil will be back in a minute."

"will he?" said big bill, as he settled himself comfortably in the chair. "do you think he can put me out?"

"not unless you want him to," and patty smiled at the big man, who looked so strong and powerful.

"somehow, i don't. i like it here."

"why?"

"because i like to look at you. you're looking uncommonly well today. if i were to guess, i should say you have been having a rumpus with somebody."

"what is a rumpus?" inquired patty, looking innocent.

"a rumpus, my child, is a tiff, a squabble, a set-to, a racket, a general scrimmage."

"i haven't exactly had those things, but, well, i may say i have been drawn into a somewhat spirited discussion."

"ah, i thought so."

"how did you know? i mean, why did you think so?"

"by your heightened colour and your generally wrought-up condition.

why, your heart isn't beating normally yet."

patty looked up at him, indignantly, but his blue eyes were very kind and his smile gentle and even concerned.

"what was it about, patty? who has been tormenting you?"

"nobody tormented me, exactly, but they criticise me and they say mean things about my friends——"

"never let them do that! your friends must be sacred to you,—i mean from adverse criticism of others."

"that's what i think, little billee. what shall i do, when everybody ridicules them and calls them names?"

"just what i am sure you did do. flare up like a wrathy kitten and helplessly paw the air."

"of course that's what i did," and patty laughed at the graphic description, "but it didn't seem to do much good."

"of course it didn't. standing up for one's friends rarely does much good, except to satisfy one's own sense of loyalty."

"why, what do you mean? why doesn't it do any good to defend our friends?"

"because if they need our defence, they're probably at fault."

"but they weren't in this case. it was the blaneys,—do you know them?"

"those mercerised personages i met at mona's wedding? i haven't the pleasure of their intimate acquaintance, and something tells me i never shall have."

"you mean you don't want it!"

"mind reader! patty, you're positively clairvoyant!"

"now, little billee, don't you go back on me, too."

"go back on you? never! while this machine is to me! why, patty, i'd defend you to the last ditch, and then fill in the ditch!"

"be serious, billee. you don't know those people, but can't you take my word for it that they're splendidly worth while? they're geniuses, and artists."

"patty, i'd take your word for anything you know about. but, for instance, i couldn't take your word that there are blue roses."

"but there are! that's just what the cosmic centre people are,—they're blue roses! i never thought of it before, but they are."

"then beware of them. blue roses are freaks——"

"yes, i know it. but there are worse things in this world than freaks.

i'd rather a man would be a freak than a—a mud turtle!"

"are many of your friends mud turtles?"

"yes, they are. they stick their heads in the sand——"

"look out for your natural history! you're thinking of ostriches."

"all the same. now, sam blaney——"

"patty! you don't mean to say that chap is sam blaney! i thought he looked a bit familiar! sam! old sam blaney! well!"

"what's the matter, billee? do you know him?"

"i used to, when we were boys. fifteen or more years ago. i doubt if he'd even remember my name. we went to a public school together. sam blaney! well!"

"you exasperating thing! don't sit there saying 'well!' and 'sam

blaney!' but tell me what you know of him."

"nothing, child, nothing. i haven't seen or heard of him for—since we were fourteen years old or so. where did you pick him up?"

patty told of her meeting the blaneys at lakewood, and of her continuing their acquaintance in new york. but suddenly farnsworth seemed to lose interest in her story.

"never mind the blaneys," he said. "i want to talk to you. what do you think, my girl? i've won out in that matter of business i've been at so long."

"have you? i'm very glad. i don't know what it was all about, little billee, but if you've succeeded in what you wanted to do, i'm very glad."

"yes, i have. and it means,—it means, patty, that i shall live in new

york now, all the time."

"yes?"

"yes. and it means, too, if this interests you, that i'm a rich man,—a very rich man."

"that's nice, bill; i congratulate you."

"oh, thank you." farnsworth's voice had grown suddenly cold, and the eager light had faded from his blue eyes. he looked at patty, and quickly looked away.

"i thought you might care," he said.

a strange thought came to patty. could he possibly mean that since he was a rich man, she would smile on his suit? could he think that she would accept his attentions more gladly because of his newly acquired wealth? the idea made her furiously angry. if farnsworth thought her that mercenary—if he deemed her so utterly sordid—well, her respect for him was decidedly lessened!