Patty and Azalea. Wells Carolyn

chosen or made up,—at least, from Patty's point of view.

      She ignored the question about the hat, and asked the girl as to her journey.

      "O.K.," Azalea returned. "Had a bang-up time. Made friends all along the line. Some of 'em coming to see me. Hope you'll like 'em."

      She stretched out luxuriously in the long chair, throwing her arms above her head, and crossing her feet, which were dressed with "gun metal" stockings and shoes. Her hat was pushed awry, and wisps of hair fell at either side of her face.

      "Now, perhaps you'd like to go to your room," suggested Patty, at her wits' end what to do with such an unconventional person.

      "Nixy; I'm too comfortable here! I'll chuck my hat, and just enjoy myself."

      Off came the hat, and was pitched on the floor. Azalea ran her fingers through her hair, making it a little more disordered than before. It was pretty hair,—or, rather would have been, if it were better cared for. Dark, almost black, with a slight inclination to curl, it was bunched into a tousled knot that was far from picturesque.

      "Oh, come," said Patty, jumping up, for she couldn't stand the girl's uncouth actions another minute. "Come along with me, Azalea. You must dress for dinner soon,—and some one might come to call now. We'll have tea in your room, if you like."

      "Tea! I never drink it. I like coffee,—for breakfast,—or cocoa. But see here, Cousin, don't you make any difference for me. I ain't company, you know,—just let me be one of the family, won't you?"

      Many retorts flashed through Patty's mind, but she only said, "Certainly,

      Azalea. We want you to be one of us."

      Farnsworth was silent. The man was really aghast. What had he brought on poor little Patty! He didn't excuse himself with the thought that it was Patty's doing, not his, that Azalea was there at all, but he felt personally to blame for having such a relative and for having her there in their home. He looked helplessly at Patty, with such despair in his kind eyes, that she ran over and kissed him, in spite of the fact that they were not alone.

      Azalea giggled. "That's right," she said, affably; "don't mind me! Just go right on spoonin' even when I'm around. I don't mind. And I don't wonder you took to her, Cousin William. She's a peach, for fair,—ain't she?"

      "She certainly is," said Farnsworth, forcing a polite smile, but conscious of a strong desire to choke his new-found relative.

      His utterly discouraged face roused Patty to fresh efforts at hospitality, and taking Azalea's arm, she persuaded her to get up from the lounging chair.

      On her feet, the girl shook herself with a careless abandon of manner, unheeding the fact that a hairpin flew from her loosened hair, and she dropped the handkerchief, gloves and small bag that she had had in her lap.

      "Oh, pshaw," she said, as Bill restored them, "ain't I awful! That's me—dropping things all the time! But I can pick them up myself—don't you be bothering."

      She stuffed gloves and handkerchief in the bag, slinging it on her arm. "My, what a vine!" she said, pulling down a branch of the wistaria,—and, incidentally, breaking it off.

      "Oh, golly! Look what I done! Just like me! But you've got plenty left."

      She tossed the broken branch out on the lawn, and then turned to follow Patty, already in the doorway.

      "I'm coming!" she said, "lead the way, Cousin, I'll trail you. What a big house! Don't you ever get lost in it?"

      "No," smiled Patty, "and you won't as soon as you're used to it. This way, Azalea."

      "Hello! Hello! This my room?" The Western girl looked at the pretty yellow room as Patty ushered her in.

      "Yes, if you like yellow,—if not—"

      "Oh, yes, I like yellow good enough. Don't make any diff to me what colour a room is. Nice and big, ain't it? Say, do you care if I chuck some of the lace props into the discard?"

      "What do you mean?"

      "Why, these here, now, faddly-duds." And Azalea whisked off a little lace stand-cover, swept up an armful of lace pillows, and was about to jerk off the lace bedspread, when Patty protested.

      "Oh, wait a minute,—of course you needn't have anything you don't want,—but Janet will take off the spread."

      "'Fraid I'll muss it up, hey?" Azalea laughed, "Well. I s'pose I am a terror! But honest to goodness I can't stand for those ticklers. They get in my ears!"

      Patty sighed. She had grasped the situation the instant she first laid eyes on the girl, but somehow it seemed to be developing further difficulties all the time.

      "Now, Azalea," she began, "let me help you get your travelling dress off and put you into your kimono, and we'll chat over a cup of tea. Oh, you don't like tea,—will you have lemonade?"

      "Yep. Love it! Plenty of sugar, though."

      Patty gave the order to Janet, who had appeared to look after the visitor, and turned back at the sound of Azalea's loud, strident laughter.