"Sleep well," she said, as she left Azalea in her own room. "And don't come downstairs in the morning before ten or eleven. I'm sure I shan't. The servants will clear everything up, and Bill will oversee it. I hate the aftermath of a Fair,—don't you?"
Azalea nodded agreement, and Patty kissed her good-night and went off.
But it was only eight o'clock the next morning when Azalea crept softly downstairs. She was neatly attired in a cloth suit, with a fresh white shirtwaist and a pretty hat.
She was not at all sleepy or weary-looking and she went out through the pantry to the kitchen.
"Please give me a cup of coffee," she said to the cook, who was just beginning her day's work.
She looked in amazement at Azalea, for she had had no orders over night to serve an early breakfast.
"I'll get you something as quick as I can," she said, good-naturedly. "I didn't know you was going to town, Miss Thorpe."
"Just decided," said Azalea, carelessly; "and I don't want breakfast,—only a cup of coffee and a bit of toast. There's a good cookie."
Smiling at the cajolery, the cook bustled about and soon had an appetising little repast ready. Azalea gratefully accepted the poached egg and the marmalade in addition to what she had requested, and in a short time had finished and prepared to depart.
But she did not ask for one of the Farnsworth motor-cars; instead, she walked swiftly out of the gate and down the street toward the trolley line.