"I am charmed to see you, Patty, my dear," she said, kissing her affectionately.
"And I am very glad to be here, Aunt Isabel," said Patty, and just then she was interrupted by the violent entrance of what seemed to be a small pink cyclone.
This was the eight year old Florelle, and without a doubt it was she who was responsible for the shrieks Patty had heard.
The child wore a short, beruffled dress of pink silk, a huge pink sash, and pink stockings and slippers. Her eyes were reddened with crying and her cheeks were tear-stained, and she ran to Patty, screaming:
"I will! I will! She's my cousin, and I'm going to see her now."
Then she threw her arms round Patty's waist, and smiled up into her face. She was a very pretty little girl when she smiled, and Patty couldn't help admiring her, though so far she had seemed like anything but a lovable character.
"Oh, Florelle," said her mother, mildly, "how naughty you are. I told you to go to bed like a goody girl, and you should see Cousin Patty in the morning."
"But I wanted to see her to-night. So I made nurse dress me, and I'm going to stay up to dinner."
"Let her stay, mamma," said Ethelyn. "If you don't, she'll yell again, and
I'm tired of hearing her."
"Yes, you can stay, baby," said Mrs. St. Clair, "and now, Ethelyn, take
Patty to her room, and get yourselves ready for dinner."