A spirit of mischief entered into Patty. She knew this must be Marie
Homer's cousin, who lived on the floor above the Homers, and who, Mrs.
Homer had said, detested girls.
"But I have the wrong number," she said. "I didn't mean to call you."
"But since you did call me, you must tell me who you are."
"I'm a captive princess," said Patty, in rather a melancholy tone. "I'm imprisoned in the dungeon of a castle."
"How awful! May I get a squad of soldiers and come to your rescue, oh, fair lady?"
"Nay, nay, Sir Knight; and anyway you do not know that I am a fair lady."
"Your voice tells me that. Surely such musical tones could belong only to the most beautiful princess in the world."
"Oh, yes, I am THAT," and Patty laughed, roguishly; "but a well-behaved princess would not be talking to a strange man. So I must say good-bye."
"Oh, no, no! wait a minute; you haven't told me your name yet."
"And I don't intend to. You detest girls, anyway."