Lieutenant Herron came early, and as Bumble had predicted, he attached himself to Patty’s train of followers.
“Such a clutter of men about you!” he exclaimed, as he sought her side, edging his way through a group of valentine buyers. “I say, Miss Fairfield, let some one else sell these people for a while, and you come and have an ice with me, won’t you?”
“I’m not selling the people!” cried Patty, smiling, “I’m selling valentines.”
“All the same. But you need a rest. Come along, and take it, and come back to your work refreshed.”
Patty was tired, and so she asked some one else to take her place for a while, and sauntered off with Herron.
They found a pleasant table in the supper room, and sat down together.
“I saw your friend Van Reypen yesterday,” said Herron, after he had given their order.
“Oh, you did? How is he?”
“Fit as a fiddle, and learning to fly, like a young robin!”
“I thought he’d be an apt pupil. Phil is clever at ’most anything.”