She had not heard him approach, and she stared at him with a pardonable curiosity. He was garbed in white flannels, with a soft, white, silk shirt and Windsor tie.
Though most correct in manner and bearing, he yet had an informal effect, and his large dark eyes looked almost mournfully at Patty.
“I said, do it again!” he repeated, in a slightly aggrieved tone.
“Do what again?” said Patty, more astonished than offended.
“Make that funny noise,—something like a laugh; was it a laugh?”
“Why, yes; one of my very best ones. Didn’t you like it?”
“I thought it was a chime of fairy bells,” was the reply, so fervently given that Patty laughed again.
The young man solemnly bowed as if in acknowledgment of her kindness.
“Don’t take it so hard,” she said, smiling; “you’ll get over it; you’ll be all right in a moment.”