"It's a pity," she said, "that Ethelyn is so ill-tempered; for she's so pretty and graceful, and she's really very bright and entertaining when she is pleased. But so much of the time she is displeased, and then there's no doing anything with her."
"She's selfish, Patty," said her father; "and selfishness is just about the worst fault in the catalogue. A selfish person cannot be happy. You probably learned something to that effect from your early copybooks, but it is none the less true."
"I know it, papa, and I do think that selfish ness is the worst fault there is; and though I fight against it, do you know I sometimes think that living here alone with you, and having my own way in everything, is making me rather a selfish individual myself."
"I don't think you need worry about that," said a hearty voice, and Kenneth Harper appeared at the veranda steps. "Pardon me, I wasn't eavesdropping, but I couldn't help overhearing your last remark, and I think it my duty to set your mind at rest on that score. Selfishness is not your besetting sin, Miss Patty Fairfield, and I can't allow you to libel yourself."
"I quite agree with you, Ken," said Mr. Fairfield. "My small daughter may not be absolutely perfect, but selfishness is not one of her faults. At least, that's the conclusion I've come to, after observing her pretty carefully through her long and checkered career."
"Well, if I'm not selfish, I will certainly become vain if so many compliments are heaped upon me," said Patty, laughing; "and I'm sure I value very highly the opinions of two such wise men."
"Oh, say a man and a boy," said young Harper modestly.
"All right, I will," said Patty, "but I'm not sure which is which.
Sometimes I think papa more of a boy than you are, Ken."
"Now you've succeeded in complimenting us both at once," said Mr.
Fairfield, "which proves you clever as well as unselfish."
"Well, never mind me for the present," said Patty; "I want to talk about some other people, and they are some more of my cousins."