portunity to observe herself.
But now, as she looked at the rather shapeless figure in the long pongee
coat, and the queer shirred hood of the same material, and as she noted
the voluminous chiffon veil with its funny little front window of mica,
she concluded that she looked more like a goblin in a fairy play than a
human being.

"Do stop admiring your new clothes, Patty, and get dressed," said Elise,
who was on her knees before an open suitcase, shaking out Patty's skirt
and bodice. "Get off those togs, and get ready to put these on. This is a
sweet little Dresden silk; I didn't know you had it. Is it new?"

"Yes," said Patty, "Nan bought it for me. She said it wouldn't take much
room in the suitcase, and would be useful for a dinner dress."

"It's lovely," said Elise. "Now get into it, and I'll hook you up."

So Patty got out of what she called her goblin clothes, but was still
giggling at them as she hung them away in the wardrobe.

Less than half an hour later the two girls, spick and span in their
dainty dresses, and with fresh white bows on their hair, went together
down the staircase. They found Mr. and Mrs. Farrington awaiting them, and
soon Roger appeared, and they went to the dining-room for a late dinner.

Then Patty discovered what automobile hunger was.

"I'm simply ravenous," she declared, "but I didn't know it until this
minute."

"That's part of the experience," said Mrs. Farrington, "the appetite
caused by motoring is the largest known variety, and that's why I wanted
to push on here, where we could get a good dinner, instead of taking our
chances at some farmhouse."

They were the only guests in the dining-room at that late hour, and so
they made a merry meal of it, and after dinner went back to the large
parlours, to sit for a while listening to the music. But they did not
tarry long, for as Patty discovered, another consequence of a motor ride
was a strong inclination to go to bed early.

CHAPTER XI

DICK PHELPS

The travellers did not rise early the next morning, and ten o'clock found
them still seated at the breakfast table.

"I do hate to hurry," said Mrs. Farrington, comfortably sipping her
coffee. "So many people think that an automobile tour means getting up
early, and hustling off at daybreak."

"I'm glad those are your sentiments," said Patty, "for I quite agree with
you. I've done enough hustling the last month or two, and I'm delighted
to take things more slowly fo