Patty made that last remark by way of introducing the subject of the circus, for her only hope was that by some miraculous whim Miss Daggett would consent to go with them. Their party numbered only six, and Patty knew that the box would hold eight, so there was room enough if Miss Daggett would go. But as Patty looked at her guest’s stern, angular face, she didn’t see anything that led her to feel very hopeful.

“We had expected, Miss Daggett,” she said, “to go to the circus this afternoon. Would you care to go with us?”

“To the circus! for the land’s sake, no! I’m surprised that you would think of going, or that your father would let you go. The circus, indeed!”

“Why, Miss Daggett,” said Patty, laughing, in spite of her disappointment, at Miss Daggett’s shocked expression, “papa’s going to take us, and Grandma is going, too—that is, we were—but of course, if you don’t care to go——”

“Care to go? of course I don’t care to go! All their elephants and wild tigers couldn’t drag me there. And of course I expect you to stay at home with me. You can go to the circus any time you choose, if you do choose, though I think it a shocking thing to do; but Rachel Daggett doesn’t visit in the city very often, and when she does she expects to have proper respect paid to her.”

Patty’s spirits sank. She had hoped that even if Miss Daggett wouldn’t go herself, she would insist that the rest of the party should keep their engagement.

“We had invited a few other friends to go,” she said, feeling that Miss Daggett’s attitude justified her in this further statement.

“You did, hey? Well, I suppose you can telephone to them that you’re not going. Of course, if I’m an unwelcome guest——”

“Oh no, Miss Daggett, not that; of course you’re not unwelcome.”

“Well, then, act as if you were glad to see me, and don’t be everlastingly whining because you can’t go to your old circus.”

Although rudely put, Patty knew in her own heart the principle of Miss Daggett’s speech was that of true hospitality, and she decided to act upon it. Moreover, she felt sure that when her father came home he would fix matters somehow. How, she didn’t know, but she knew it would be all right.

When Mr. Fairfield arrived he greeted the unexpected guest in his own cordial, pleasant way.

“You’re just in time,” he said, grasping the situation at once; “we’re all going to the circus this afternoon, and we’ll be delighted to have you accompany us. We have two extra seats, so there’s plenty of room.”

“Your daughter has already given me the same invitation,” said Miss Daggett, “and as I said to her, I repeat to you: nothing would induce me to go to a circus. I think it entirely undignified and improper, and I am surprised that you should suggest such a thing.”

“Oh, come now, Miss Daggett, you can’t mean that. Circuses are all right, especially the one in Madison Square Garden. Why, they have the finest acrobats and trapeze performers in the world; and a score of trained elephants. Then there is the lovely lady who whizzes through space in an automobile, and flies around a great circular track upside down.”

“What!” exclaimed Miss Daggett, interested in spite of herself.

“Yes, and two men who ride down hill on bicycles, and at the end jump off into the air, still riding, and jump on again, passing each other as they go.”

“I’d like to see that,” said Miss Daggett, thrilled by Mr. Fairfield’s description, “if it was in a private house; but I wouldn’t go to the circus to see it!”

“Have you never been to a circus?” inquired Mr. Fairfield.

“That’s neither here nor there,” said Miss Daggett, drawing herself up stiffly, and leaving the question unanswered.

“Well, I’m sorry you won’t go,” said Mr. Fairfield, urbanely, “for in that case the party must be given up. And your nephew, Kenneth, will be so disappointed.”

This was diplomacy on Mr. Fairfield’s part, for he well knew how Miss Daggett idolised young Harper, and he hoped, as a last resort, that this argument might move her.

“Kenneth!” almost shrieked the old lady, “is he going? You didn’t tell me he was going;” and she glared reprovingly at Patty.

“I told you we had invited some friends,” said Patty, “and he is among them.”

“Kenneth going!” again exclaimed Miss Daggett; “why then, of course I’ll go. All their elephants and wild tigers couldn’t keep me at home if Kenneth is going. Come, let us have luncheon, so we can all be ready in time, and not keep Kenneth waiting. Dear boy, when will he be here?”

“He’s coming at quarter of two,” said Patty, “and then we’re all going down together. Mr. Hepworth is going, and my friend Lorraine Hamilton.”

But Miss Daggett seemed to care little who the other guests were, since her nephew was to be of the party. Patty was quite accustomed to the old lady’s eccentricities, and, moreover, she was so delighted that the circus party was safe after all, that she humoured Miss Daggett in every possible way. She talked to her about Kenneth, and told her of the lad’s good progress in college; and adroitly referred to the fact that they had all thought his steady application to study deserved a reward in the diversions of the circus.

Miss Daggett quite agreed to this, and now that the fact of their going was established, she admitted that she herself was anxious to see the wonders of which Mr. Fairfield had spoken.

During luncheon-time Patty was summoned to the telephone.

To her surprise the speaker proved to be none other than Roger Farrington.

He said he had been discharged from the hospital the night before, and was again at home, although his arm was still in a sling. He wanted to know if he might come down that afternoon and thank Patty in person for the scrap-book, and for the merry messages she had sent to him by Elise.

Patty did some quick thinking. Then she said:

“Why, you see, Roger, we’re all going to the circus this afternoon; but we have an extra seat, and if you’ll go with us, we’ll be awfully glad to have you.”

“Go!” exclaimed Roger, “I should rather say I would!”

“Well, if you go,” said Patty, imbued with a sudden spirit of mischief, “you must consider yourself th............