"Yes, of course I do. I like everything you wear, because I like you. In
fact, I think I like you better than any girl I ever saw."

Kenneth said this in such a frank, boyish way that he seemed to be
announcing a mere casual preference for some matter-of-fact thing.

At least it seemed so to Patty, and she answered carelessly:

"You _think_ you do! I'd like you to be sure of it, sir."

"I am sure of it," said Ken, and then, a little more diffidently: "Do you
like me best?"

"Why, yes, of course I do," said Patty, smiling, "that is, after papa and
Aunt Alice and Marian and Uncle Charley and Frank and Mancy and
Pansy--and Mr. Hepworth."

Patty might not have added the last name if she had not just then seen
that gentleman coming toward her.

He looked at Patty with an especial kindliness in his eyes, and
said gently:

"Miss Fairfield, may I see your card?"

Patty flushed a little and her eyes fell.

"Please don't talk like that," she said. "I'm not grown up, if I am
dressed up. I'm only Patty, and if you call me anything else I'll
run away."

"Don't run away," said Mr. Hepworth, still looking at her with that grave
kindliness that seemed to have about it a touch of sadness. "I will call
you Patty as long as you will stay with me."

Then Patty smiled again, quite her own merry little self, and gave him
her card, saying:

"Put your name down a lot of times, please; you are a beautiful dancer,
and I like best to dance with the people I know best."

"I wish I had a rubber stamp," said Mr. Hepworth; "it's very fatiguing to
write one's name on every line."

"Oh, good gracious!" cried Patty, "don't take them all. I want to save a
lot for Frank and Ken--"

"And your father," said Mr. Hepworth.

"Papa? He doesn't dance--at least, I never saw him."

"But he did dance that last waltz, with Miss Allen."

"With Nan? Well, then, I rather think he can dance with his own
daughter. Don't take any more; I want all the rest for him, and please
take me to him."

"Here he comes now. Mr. Fairfield, your daughter wishes a word with you."

"Papa Fairfield!" exclaimed Patty, "you never told me you could dance!"

"You never asked me; you took it for granted that I was too old to frisk
around the ballroom."

"And aren't you?" asked Patty teasingly.

"Try me and see," said her father, as he took her card.

The trial proved very satisfactory, and Patty declared that she must have
inherited her own taste for dancing fro