es were center-pieces, doilies, and napkins of all
varieties of embroidery and decoration. A large back veranda had been
arranged as a refreshment room, and here Farnsworth discovered Nan and
Mr. Fairfield eating ice cream.

"Join us," they begged, but a smiling headshake was the negative reply.

"I'm on a still hunt for Patty. I'm told she's upstairs."

"Yes, in her own rooms," said Nan. "But you can't get in, the place is
jammed. Wait till she has sold off a lot of stuff, then there'll be at
least standing room. I've just come down from there and I never saw
such a crowd."

"I'm fairly good at stemming crowds,--I think I'll go up."

Farnsworth squared his broad shoulders and started up the stairway.

By tactful manoeuvring, rather than by muscular strength, he gained his
goal, and stood in the doorway of Patty's boudoir.

She was showing off a boudoir set to a prospective purchaser. It was
of pale blue brocaded satin, edged with swansdown. There was a
fetching lace cap with blue bows and little yellow rosebuds; also
dainty blue slippers with rosebuds on them. Gaily, Patty donned the
lovely garments, over her fluffy white frock, and pirouetted before her
own cheval glass.

"You see," she said, in wheedling, saleslady tones, "it is a work of
art! _Ma foi_! but it is _chic_! _n'est-ce pas_? Excuse my fearful
French, but I can't sell this Parisian rig in English!"

"It is just darling!" declared the lady who was looking at it. "Of
course I'll take it. I never saw one I liked so well."

Farnsworth stood watching the scene, thinking how much Patty's winning
personality added to the charm of the robe, and wondering if she would
accept the books he had bought for her.

The sale concluded, Patty thanked her patron, and in a moment was
called upon to repeat the performance, as indeed she had been doing
most of the evening. This time it was not so willing a buyer.

A gaunt, elderly spinster, with elaborately coiffed white hair and
ostentatious costume, demanded a kimono that should be just her style
and of embroidered crepe de chine.

"Here is a lovely one in heliotrope," said Patty, smiling as she
brought one of the prettiest ones she had.

"Heliotrope!" the lady almost screamed. "Do I then look so old? Am I
in the sere and yellow? Why do you offer me heliotrope?"

"Oh, don't you care for it?" said Patty, pleasantly; "it's one of my
favourite colours. What colour do you like best?"

"I like a