“But you’ve already asked Mona!” cried Patty, with a teasing laugh. “I knew it perfectly well, Roger, and I only asked you to tease you. And I’ll be perfectly content with the second, so save that for me.”
“Indeed I will, and thank you kindly,” said Roger, and then Philip Van Reypen and Kenneth both said at once, “May I have the first dance, Patty?”
“No, indeed,” she returned, laughing gaily at them; “I’m not going to give my first dance to any of my house party. There are several Spring Beach boys coming, and I shall dance with whichever one of those asks me first.”
Patty’s own particular decided wag of the head accompanied this speech, and the men knew it would be of no use to coax her.
And then the other guests began to arrive, and the great entrance hall of “The Pebbles” was a scene of merry laughter and chatter, and greetings and introductions on all sides.
Under Nan’s orders, the whole place had been beautifully decorated. In the hall and rooms were garlands and banks of flowers, and tall palms shading alcoved nooks. The verandas were hung with Japanese lanterns, and a few of these were scattered among the shrubbery, to light the way for any who might be inclined to stroll on the lawn.
At eight o’clock, Patty, taking her father’s arm, led the way to the dining-room. Nan and Mr. Hepworth followed, and then the others in merry procession.
Dinner was served at small tables, as the number of guests was too large to be accommodated at one. Each table was beautifully decorated with flowers and candles, and pretty place-cards as souvenirs of the occasion.
Of course there was a birthday cake, and when at last Patty cut it, and each guest had partaken of it, the dinner was over, and the dance about to begin.
Several musicians were on the broad landing, halfway upstairs, and played just the right kind of music for young people’s merry dancing.