nd in Hester Pringle's top
drawer. The two turned her critically before the mirror, the pride of
creation in their eyes. As Kid had truly presaged, she was the ravingest
beauty in all the school.

Irish Maggie appeared in the door.

"Mr. Gladden is in the drawin'-room, Miss Harriet." She stopped and
stared. "Sure, ye're that beautiful I didn't know ye!"

Harriet went with a laugh--and a fighting light in her eyes.

Patty and Kid restlessly set themselves to reducing the chaos that this
sudden butterfly flight had caused in Paradise Alley--it is always
dreary work setting things to rights, after the climax of an event has
been reached.

It was an hour later that the sudden quick patter of feet sounded in the
hall, and Harriet ran in--danced in--her eyes were shining; she was a
picture of youth and happiness and bubbling spirits.

"Well?" cried Patty and Kid in a breath.

She stretched out her wrist and displayed a gold-linked bracelet set
with a tiny watch.

"Look!" she cried, "he brought me that for Christmas. And I'm going to
have all the dresses I want, and Miss Sallie isn't going to pick them
out ever again. And he's going to stay for dinner to-night, and eat at
the little table with us. And he's going to take us into town next
Saturday for luncheon and the matinee, and the Dowager says we may go!"

"Gee!" observed the Kid. "It paid for all the trouble we took."

"And what do you think?" Harriet caught her breath in a little gasp.
"_He likes me!_"

"I knew those silver buckles would fetch him!" said Patty.

VII

"Uncle Bobby"

While St. Ursula's was still dallying with a belated
morning-after-Christmas breakfast, the mail arrived, bringing among
other matters, a letter for Patty from her mother. It contained cheering
news as to Tommy's scarlet fever, and the expressed hope that school was
not too lonely during the holidays; it ended with the statement that Mr.
Robert Pendleton was going to be in the city on business, and had
promised to run out to St. Ursula's to see her little daughter.

The last item Patty read aloud to Harriet Gladden and Kid McCoy
(christened Margarite). The three "left-behinds" were occupying a table
together in a secluded corner of the dining-room.

"Who's Mr. Robert Pendleton?" inquired Kid, looking up from her own
letter.

"He used to be my father's private secretary when I was a little girl. I
always called him 'Uncle Bobby.'"

Kid returned to her mail. She to