“You goose!” cried Bumble. “I believe you think more of your trousseau than of your husband!”
Patty made no answer to this, save a flashing glance at Farnsworth, which seemed to assure him that Bumble’s notion was a mistaken one.
“Tell us about the valentines,” Nan said, “however did you come to get one just like Patty’s?”
“Wasn’t it queer?” assented Bill. “And, if you ask me, I think they were silly, stupid things, anyway! How’d you come to get it, Patty?”
“On a dare,” Patty laughed. “Lieutenant Herron——”
“Who’s he?”
“One of my new army friends. Oh, Little Billee, I’ve so much to tell you, and no time to tell it in!”
“That’s so! and first of all, I must ask you if you opened a sealed note before I told you you might.”
“No; I didn’t.” Patty’s blue eyes met Farnsworth’s blue ones with a gaze of unmistakable honesty.
“I knew you didn’t, of course,” he said, perplexedly, “but the trouble is, who did? Somebody must have done so, to know that I thought of coming up to New York. It was important that it shouldn’t be known.”