Soon after, the girls going downstairs in their fresh, light summer frocks, were much pleased to see that Patty's ruse had succeeded. Aunt Adelaide was gracefully posed in a veranda chair, wearing the lavender gown, a collar of fine old lace, and her amethyst necklace. She looked gentle and charming, and seemed in high good humour.
"I hope you like this gown," she said. "I hesitated a long time, but finally chose it because it matched my necklace."
"It's lovely," said Patty, enthusiastically; "and it suits you awfully well. Look, Mona, there they come!"
Another moment, and a rosy-cheeked young matron flew into Mona's arms and greeted her after the most approved manner of reunited school friends.
"You dearest old thing!" she cried. "You haven't changed a bit, except to grow better looking! And, Mona, here's my husband,—Jim, his name is,—but HERE'S the baby!"
A nurse stepped forward, bringing a mite of humanity, who was laughing and waving her little fat arms, as if delighted to be of the party.
"What an angel of a baby!" cried Mona, taking the smiling infant in her arms. "And a solid angel too," she added, as the child proved more substantial than she had appeared.
"Yes; she's nearly two years old, and she weighs exactly right, according to the best schedules. She's a perfect schedule baby in every way."
Then the small piece of perfection was handed over to what was probably a schedule nurse, and general introductions followed.
Patty liked the Kenerleys at once. They were breezy and pleasant mannered, and had an affable way of making themselves at home.