Patty was passionately fond of music, and never talked during a performance. Between the acts, she was a smiling chatterbox, but while the curtain was up, she behaved in most exemplary fashion. Mrs. Van Reypen knew this, or she would not have asked her, for that lady was old-fashioned in her ways, and had no patience with people who chattered while the great singers were pouring forth their marvellous notes.
[Illustration: After dinner the whole party went to the opera]
When the final curtain fell, Mrs. Van Reypen invited her guests to return to her house for supper, but Patty declined.
"Very well, my dear," said her hostess, "I think, myself, you're too young to be out any later than this. We will set you down at your own door, and you must hop right into bed and get your beauty sleep. Young things like you can't stay young unless you take good care of your pinky cheeks."
"But I don't want Patty to go home," Philip grumbled, to his aunt.
"Your wishes are not consulted, my boy; this is my party. You're merely my guest, and, if you don't behave yourself, you won't get invited again."
"That scares me dreadfully," and Philip lightly pinched his aunt's cheek. "I will be good, so I'll be asked again."
The big limousine stopped at Patty's door, and Philip escorted her up the steps.
"I think you might have come to supper," he said, reproachfully, as he touched the bell.
"It's too late," said Patty, decidedly; "and, besides, I have other plans for the rest of the evening."