"I'm not so apt to be late afternoons," Patricia answered; "I suppose it's just happened that way."
The next morning after breakfast, Patricia lingered. "Are you going my way this morning, grandmother?"
"Yes, dear," Mrs. Cory answered.
Patricia caught the smile in her father's eyes and wondered.
Half-way to school she suddenly stopped. "Grandmother, you're doing it on purpose—to make me get there early!"
Mrs. Cory smiled. "You see I didn't want to lose my treat, Patricia."
When Friday noon came Patricia had not one tardy mark for those four days; and on that same Friday noon she met her Waterloo.
It was the Dixon baby who caused her downfall.
He was one of Patricia's most ardent admirers; and when he saw her coming that noon he made as straight for her as his very shaky two-year-old legs would allow. Of course he tumbled down and scratched his snubby little nose; and of course Patricia stopped to pet and comfort him, carrying him back to the house. "Mrs. Dixon," she called from the gate, "oh, Mrs. Dixon!"
But Mrs. Dixon had just stepped over to a neighbor's. Patricia tried to put her charge down, but he stoutly refused to be put.