Sure enough, Kit Cameron was an unusually fine dancer, and Patty felt a slow blush rising to her cheeks, as she remembered what she had said to him, and realised he must have thought her vain of her dancing.
For once, Patty felt honestly ashamed of herself. She had implied that she was such a fine dancer she didn't care to dance with any one unskilled in the art.
But after all, this was not quite Patty's attitude. When a stranger was introduced to her, she was quite willing to dance with him, whether he danced well or not. But as to Mr. Cameron, Patty liked him so much and so enjoyed his beautiful music, that she really felt it would be a shock to their friendship if he danced awkwardly.
And, too, she never for a moment supposed he would take her at her word. She had supposed he would insist upon the dance, even after her hesitation.
"What's the matter Patty?" said Kenneth; "you look as though you'd lost your last friend!"
"I'm not sure but I have," said Patty, smiling a little. For certainly Mr. Cameron was the last friend she had made, and it was very likely that she had lost him.
"Well, never mind, you still have me left. I'm gentle and I'm kind, and you'll never, never find a better friend than your old Ken."
"I believe you're right," and Patty smiled at him. "We've been friends a long time, haven't we, Ken?"
"We sure have. When I look at your gray hair and wrinkled cheeks, I realise that we are growing old together."
Patty laughed and dimpled at this nonsense, and then declared she was ready to dance.