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And as I sat and thought how near he and I had been to each other in all our troubles, I excused myself for running to him with that letter, and I acknowledged to myself that I had no right to get vexed when he teased me, for he had been kind and interested about helping me get thin by the time Alfred came back to see me. I couldn't tell which I was blushing all to myself about, the "perfect flower" he had called me, or the "lovely lily" Alfred had reminded me in his letter that I had been when he left me.,

Patricia was silent, weighing this suggestion. They both broke into negation at once as they reached their own front door.,

"Read it for yourselves," she smiled, tossing the sheet across the table. "My time's about up. It's criticism morning in the portrait class, and I want to get a lot more done before Mr. Benton comes.",

"Mother's handkerchief, Dido," explained Isabella, interrupting. "The one you bound round my head."

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"My shawl will be stunning," rejoiced Elinor. "They've both come to us in the very nick of time. With that old silk skirt of mine, and that worn-out gold-beaded tunic of Aunt Louise's that we found in the closet at Greycroft, we'll be simply dazzling. See if we're not, Patricia Louise Kendall.",

And, furthermore, I didn't like that next hour much, just as a sample of life, for instance. Aunt Bettie had got her joining-together humour well started, and there, before my face, she made a present of every nice man in Hillsboro to that lovely, distinguished, strange girl who could have slipped through a bucket hoop if she had tried hard. I had to sit there, listen to the presentations, watch her drink two delicious cups of tea full of sugar and cream, and consume without fear three of Jane's puffy cakes, while I crumbled mine in secret and set half the cup of tea out of sight behind a fern pot.,

Miss Jinny came to herself with a chuckle. "My gracious, Patricia Kendall, what are you thinking of!" she exclaimed in growing amazement. "Are you mad enough to imagine I'm going to behave like a lunatic, just because I'm taking a new name to myself? Do behave or I'll never speak to you again!",

Across the lawn there crept a wizen, gray-haired little man, with a cringing manner. He was white, but darkish in the skin, and there was something negroid about his face. This dwarfish little creature was a tramp, who had become a pensioner of Isabella's. He had attached himself to her like some faithful dog, and rarely failed to present himself at least once a day.