Cameron? He's a cousin of Marie Homer's."
"I don't know him," said Patty, smiling, "but I've been introduced to him. Just as I was leaving Marie's to-day, he came in. But he was very abstracted in his manner. He merely bowed, and without a word he went straight on to the piano and began fussing with his music."
"You were just leaving, anyway?"
"Yes; but I would have remained a few moments, if he had been more sociable. But, of course, I couldn't insist on his talking to me, if he didn't want to."
"He doesn't like girls," said Elise, but as she spoke she smiled in a self-conscious way.
"So I've heard," said Patty, smiling herself. "He seems young to be what they call a woman-hater. I thought only old bachelors were that. Well, he has no interest for me. There are plenty of boys in our own set."
"Don't you tell, if I tell you something," and now Elise looked decidedly important.
"What is it? I won't tell."
"Well, it's the funniest thing! That Mr. Cameron wants to meet me, though he never has seen me."
"What!" exclaimed Patty, in astonishment. "Why does he want to meet you?"
"I don't know, I'm sure. But he was at Marie's this morning, and asked her if she knew any girl who was gay and merry and had a sweet voice, and had dark hair and eyes and rosy cheeks. And Marie says she knows he means me, and I think he does too! Isn't it exciting?"
"Yes," said Patty, drily. "But you don't sing much, Elise."
"Oh, of course I don't sing like you do, but I have a fairly decent voice."
"But how mysterious it is. What does he know about you?"
"I don't know. It IS mysterious. He wouldn't tell Marie anything except that he wanted to know the name of the girl he described; and he said she must be friendly enough with Marie to call her up on the telephone in the middle of the night."
"But did you do that?" asked Patty, who was really shaking with laughter.
"Yes; I called her up last night after I got home from the party, because I'd left my spangled scarf there, and I wanted her to put it away safely for me."
"I always leave things at a party, too," said Patty, looking innocent. "I left my fan at Marie's last night. So I went there to-day and got it."
"Well, I thought I'd better telephone, for so many girls leave things and they get scattered or lost."
"Well, what did your telephoning have to do with Mr. Cameron?"
"I don't know; that's the queer part of it. Perhaps the wires were crossed and he heard me talking."
"H'm," said Patty, "perhaps he did. When are you going to meet him,
Elise?"
"I don't know; but Marie says she'll have a few friends to tea some day soon, and she'll ask him. She says it'll have to be a very small tea, because he hates to meet people."
"Why doesn't she have just you two? I think it would be more romantic."
"Oh, nonsense. This isn't romance. I think Mr. Cameron is a freak, anyway. But it's all amusing, and I hope you'll be at the tea, yourself, Patty."
"I will if I'm asked," said Patty.
CHAPTER III
THE HEPWORTHS AT HOME
It was the day of Christine's home-coming, and Patty was busy as a bee preparing for the great event. The pretty apartment where the Hepworths were to live was all furnished and equipped, but Patty was looking after the dainty appointments of a party.
Not a large party, only about a dozen of their own set. Nan was there, too, and Elise Farrington, and they were arranging flowers in bowls and jars and vases, till the rooms were a bower of blossoms.
"What time will they arrive?" said Elise.
"We expected them about six o'clock," returned Patty; "but I had a telegram, and their train is delayed, so they can't get here until nine. So I want the party all assembled when they come. It's five now, and everything's about done, so we can scoot home and get some dinner and get dressed, and be back here before they arrive. I'll be here by half-past eight, for the caterers are coming then, and I want to see about the table."
So they all went home to dress, and before half-past eight Patty was back again.
There were two maids already installed, but Patty found plenty to do in superintending matters, and she hadn't much more than completed the decorations of the table, when the guests began to come.
"Isn't the apartment lovely?" exclaimed Mona Galbraith, as she went through the rooms. "This music-room, or living-room, or whatever you call it, is just dear! Who selected the furnishings?"
"Oh, Mr. Hepworth and Christine," said Patty; "two artists, you know; of course the rooms ought to be beautiful. It is a lovely place, and just the right setting for that darling of a Christine."
The whole merry crowd were assembled in the living-room, when the bride and groom arrived. A shout of welcome went up from the young people, and Christine was smothered in girlish embraces, while the men vigorously shook Mr. Hepworth's hand, or clapped him on the shoulder, in their masculine way of congratulation.
Christine looked very sweet and smiling, in a pretty travelling gown, but Patty carried her off at once and insisted that she get into a house gown.
"The idea," said Patty, "of a hostess in a high-collared frock and all her guests in evening dress!"
So Christine quickly changed to a little chiffon gown of pale green and
Patty tucked a pink rose in her hair and some more in her belt.
"Now you look like a bride," said Patty, nodding approval at her, and leading her to a mirror; "look at that vision of beauty! Aren't you glad I made you change?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Christine, in mock humility; "it's much better so."
The evening was a merry one. They danced and they sang and they chatted and finally they had the delightful supper that Patty had ordered.
Christine, blushing prettily, took the head of the table, while Gilbert
Hepworth, with a proud air of proprietorship, sat at the other end.
Patty, as guest of honour, sat at the right hand of her host.
"It has always been my aspiration," she said, with a beaming smile at Christine, "to have a married friend to visit. I warn you, Christine, I shall spend most of my time here. There's one little nook of a bedroom I claim as my own and I expect to occupy it very frequently. And, besides, I have to give you lessons in housekeeping. You're a great artist, I know, but you must learn to do lots of other things beside paint."
"I wish you would, Patty," and the little bride looked very much in earnest; "I truly want to keep house, but being an artist and a Southern girl both, I don't believe I'm very capable."
"You're a blessed dear, that's what YOU are"; and Patty turned to
Hepworth, saying, "Isn't she?"
"Yes, indeed," he returned; "I've only just begun to realise the beautiful qualities in her nature. And it is to you, Patty, that I owe my happiness. I shall never forget what you did in order that Christine might come to New York."
"And now we are surprised at the result," said Patty, who never could be serious for long at a time. "Come on, people, you've had enough supper, let's have one more dance and then we must go home and leave these turtledoves to their own nest."
But the one dance proved to mean several, until at last Patty said, "This will never do! Christine is all tired out, and as the superintendent of this party I order you all to go home at once."
The others laughingly agreed, except Philip Van Reypen, who came near Patty and murmured, "You haven't danced with me once to-night, and you've been awful cruel to me lately, anyway. Now let us have one more dance in honour of the bride's home-coming."
"No," said Patty, firmly, "not another dance to-night."
"Just