"No; but I don't want you to think you must—"
"Now, now, don't be Patty Simpleton! When I make forced or perfunctory speeches, you'll know it! Don't you think so, Patty Mine?"
"Yep. Oh, Billee, look, there's the place for the tea-house!"
Patty pointed to a shady nook, halfway up the side of the ravine.
"Great!" agreed Bill. "Wait a minute,—I'll sketch it in."
He pulled an old envelope and a pencil from his pockets, and rapidly drew the location with a few hasty strokes, and added a suggestion of an Oriental looking building that was meant for the proposed tea-house.
"Just right!" cried Patty; "you are clever, dear! Now draw Baby and me drinking tea there."
A few more marks did for the tea drinkers and a queer looking figure hurrying along the path was doubtless the father coming home.
Patty declared herself satisfied and folded the paper and put it safely away in her pocket.
"We'll get at that as soon as the landscape gardener finishes the sunken garden," she said.