"Oh, Mr. Hepworth and Christine," said Patty; "two artists, you know; of course the rooms ought to be beautiful. It is a lovely place, and just the right setting for that darling of a Christine."
The whole merry crowd were assembled in the living-room, when the bride and groom arrived. A shout of welcome went up from the young people, and Christine was smothered in girlish embraces, while the men vigorously shook Mr. Hepworth's hand, or clapped him on the shoulder, in their masculine way of congratulation.
Christine looked very sweet and smiling, in a pretty travelling gown, but Patty carried her off at once and insisted that she get into a house gown.
"The idea," said Patty, "of a hostess in a high-collared frock and all her guests in evening dress!"
So Christine quickly changed to a little chiffon gown of pale green and
Patty tucked a pink rose in her hair and some more in her belt.
"Now you look like a bride," said Patty, nodding approval at her, and leading her to a mirror; "look at that vision of beauty! Aren't you glad I made you change?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Christine, in mock humility; "it's much better so."
The evening was a merry one. They danced and they sang and they chatted and finally they had the delightful supper that Patty had ordered.
Christine, blushing prettily, took the head of the table, while Gilbert
Hepworth, with a proud air of proprietorship, sat at the other end.
Patty, as guest of honour, sat at the right hand of her host.