"I'm invited for a week, but I may have to go home sooner. Isn't that
Western chap immense?"
For some ridiculous reason, Patty blushed scarlet at the mere mention of Mr. Farnsworth.
"What the—oh, I say, Patty! You're not favouring him, are you? Why, you've only just met him to-day, haven't you?"
"Yes, certainly; I never saw him before. No, I'm not favouring him, as you call it."
"Then why are you the colour of a hard-boiled lobster? Patty! quit blushing, or you'll burn up!"
"Don't, Roger; don't be silly. I'm NOT blushing."
"Oh, no! You're only a delicate shade of crimson vermilion! Well, if you want him, Patty, I'll get him for you. Do you want him now?"
"No! of course I don't! Do be still, Roger! And stop that foolish smiling! Well, then, I'm going to talk to Adele Kenerley."
Patty ran away from Roger, who was decidedly in a teasing mood, and seated herself beside the pretty young matron.
"Such a GOOD child," Mrs. Kenerley was saying; "she NEVER cries, and she's SO loving and affectionate."