"Yes, we'll go and order them to-day. I'd love to." Nan spoke absentmindedly, for she was reading her own letters, and Patty proceeded to open the rest of her mail.
That evening Kenneth came for his answer.
Patty had talked it over with her father, and had concluded the kindest thing was to tell Kenneth frankly, no.
The scene was not as difficult as Patty had feared, for Kenneth took the cheerful attitude of believing that she would yet relent.
"So long as there is no one else, Patty, girl," he said, very gently, "I'm going to hope that you will yet learn to love me. I shall never despair, until you tell me yourself that you have given your heart to some one else."
"And we'll be good friends, Ken?"
"You bet we will! You needn't think I'm down and out because you've said no, once! I'm not awfully swift, Patty, but I'm terribly persistent,—and I'm just going to keep on loving you, in hope that some day you'll come to me because you want to."
"But there's no promise, Ken."
"No, dear, no promise. Only a hope in my heart, too deep to be rooted out, that some day—"
"So—me day! So—ome day!" chanted Patty in a trilling voice, and Ken smiled in his old, friendly fashion.