Christmas would be on Wednesday, and it was arranged that Patty and Mona should go up to Fern Falls on Monday. Roger and Philip Van Reypen were to go up on Tuesday for the Christmas Eve celebration; and the rest of the house-party were already at the Kenerleys’.

The girls started off early in the afternoon, and a train ride of three hours brought them to the pretty little New England village of Fern Falls.

Jim Kenerley met them with a motor.

“We hoped for snow,” he said, as he cordially greeted the befurred young women who stepped off the train at the little station. “So much more Christmassy, you know. But, at any rate, we have cold, clear weather, and that’s something. Hop in, now. Adèle didn’t come to meet you,—sent all kinds of excuses, which I’ve forgotten, but she can tell you herself, when we 142 reach the house. Here, I’ll sit between you, and keep you from shaking around and perhaps spilling out.”

Cheery Jim Kenerley bustled them into the tonneau, looked after their luggage, and then, taking his own place, drew up the fur robes snugly, and the chauffeur started off. It was a four-mile spin to the house, for the village itself was distant from the station, and the Kenerleys’ house a mile or so beyond.

It was cold, but the girls were warmly wrapped up and didn’t a bit mind the clear, frosty air, though in an open car. “Didn’t bring the limousine,” Mr. Kenerley rattled on. “Can’t abide to be shut up in a stuffy glass house, and then, you know, people who ride in glass houses mustn’t throw stones.”

“But, you see, we girls couldn’t hit anything if we did throw a stone,” said Patty. “At least, women have that reputation.”

“That’s so,” agreed Jim. “Can’t even hit the side of a barn, so they say. But I expect you girls that grow up with athletics and basket ball, and such things, put the old proverbs to rout.”

“How’s Daisy?” asked Mona. “Same as ever?” 143

“Yep; same as ever. Daisy’s all right, you know, if things go her way. But if not——”

“If not, she makes them go her way,” said Mona, and Jim laughed and agreed, “She sure does!”

At last they reached the house, which Jim informed them they had dubbed the Kenerley Kennel, for no particular reason, except that it sounded well.

“But you have dogs?” asked Patty, as they rolled up the driveway.

“Yes, but we didn’t exactly name it after them. Hello, here are the girls!”

Adèle and Daisy appeared in the doorway, and greeted the visitors in truly feminine fashion, which included much laughter and exclamation.

“Where do I come in?” said a laughing voice, and a big, laughing man left his seat by the fireplace and came toward them.

“This is my brother,” said Adèle, “by name, Mr. Harold Ferris,—but commonly called Chub.”

The name was not inapt, for Mr. Ferris showed a round, chubby face, with big, dancing black eyes and ringlets of dark hair clustered on 144 his brow. Only his enormous size prevented his appearance being positively infantile, and his round, dimpled face was as good-natured as that of a laughing baby.

“And so you’re the two girls who are to spend Christmas with us,” he said, beaming down on them from his great height. “Well, you’ll do!”

He looked approvingly from Patty’s flower face to Mona’s glowing beauty, and truly it would have been hard to find two more attractive looking girls. The sudden transition from the cold out-of-doors to the warmth of the blazing fire had flushed their cheeks and brightened their eyes, and the hearty welcome they received brought smiles of delight to their faces.

“Now, come away with me,” said Adèle, “and get off your furs and wraps, and make yourselves pretty for tea.”

“Oh, I know what you’ll do,” said Chub, in an aggrieved tone. “You’ll just go upstairs and hob-nob and talk and gossip and chatter and babble, and never get down here again! I know girls! Why, first thing I know, you’ll be having your tea sent up there!”

“Great idea!” exclaimed Patty, twinkling her eyes at him. “Let’s do that, Adèle; kimono 145 party, you know. We’ll see you at dinner time, Mr. Ferris.”

“Dinner time, nothing! If you’re not back here in fifteen minutes, the whole crowd of you, I’ll—I’ll——”

“Well, what will you do?” laughed Mona.

“Never you mind,—you’ll find out all too soon. Now, skip, and remember, tea will be served in just fifteen minutes.”

The girls had really no intention of not returning, and it was not much more than the allotted time before Patty and Mona were arrayed in soft, pretty house-dresses and reappeared in the great hall, where tea was already being placed for them.

The big fireplace had cosy seats on either side, and the crackling logs and flickering blaze made all the light that was needed save for a pair of tall cathedral candles in their antique standards.

“What a duck of a house!” exclaimed Patty, as she came down the broad staircase, her soft, rose-coloured chiffon gown shimmering in the firelight. She cuddled up in a corner near the fire, and Hal Ferris brought a cushion to put behind her.

“It ought to be a rose-coloured one,” he said, apologetically; “but I didn’t see one handy to 146 grab, and really this old blue isn’t half bad for a background.”

“Much obliged for your kind colour-scheme,” said Patty, smiling at him, “and I’ll have one lump, please, and a bit of lemon.”

Big Mr. Ferris proved himself tactful as well as kind, for he divided his attentions impartially among the four ladies.

“A little shy of men; aren’t we, Adèle?” he said to his sister. “Even Jim seems to have disappeared. Not that I mind being the only pebble on the beach,—far from it,—but I’m afraid I can’t prove entertaining enough for four.”

“You’re doing nobly so far,” said Patty, cuddling into her cushion, for she loved luxurious warmth, like a kitten.

“Two more men are coming to dinner, girls,” said their hostess; “and to-morrow, you know, we’ll have two more house-party guests. Don’t worry, Chub, you shan’t be overworked, I promise you.”

After a pleasant tea hour, the girls went again to their rooms, ostensibly to rest before dinner, but really to have what Patty called a kimono party.

All in their pretty négligées, they gathered in 147 Adèle’s room and talked as rapidly and interruptingly as any four girls can.

“Do you hear from Bill Farnsworth often?” asked Daisy of Patty, apropos of nothing but her own curiosity.

“Not often, Daisy,” returned Patty, of no mind to pursue the subject.

“But don’t you ever hear from him?” persisted the other.

“Oh, sometimes,” said Patty, carelessly. “He sent me flowers for my coming-out party.”

“I hear from Bill sometimes,” said Adèle. “I asked him to come to this party, but he couldn’t possibly leave just now. He’s awfully busy.”

“What’s he doing?” asked Mona.

“I don’t know exactly,” answered Adèle. “Jim can tell you, but it has something to do with prospecting of mines. Say, girls, do you want to see the baby before she’s put to bed?”

Of course they did, and they all trooped into the nursery to admire the tiny mite of humanity, who looked a picture, with her tumbled curls and her laughing face, just ready for bed.

She remembered Patty and Mona, and greeted them without shyness, clinging to Patty’s neck and begging her to stay and sing her to sleep. 148

This Patty would have done, but Adèle wouldn’t allow it, and ordered the girls back to their rooms to dress for dinner.

“Eight o’clock sharp,” she warned them, “and don’t put on your prettiest gowns; save those for to-morrow night.”

Patty wandered around her room, singing softly, as she dressed. Looking over her dinner gowns, she decided upon her second best, a white marquisette with a garniture of pearl beads and knots of pale blue velvet. When the maid came to assist her she was nearly dressed, and ten minutes before the dinner hour she was quite ready to go downstairs. “I may as well go on down,” she thought to herself. “I can explore the house a little.”

She looked in at Mona’s door as she passed, but as that young woman was just having her gown put over her head, she didn’t see Patty, and so Patty went on downstairs.

There was no one about, so she strolled through the various rooms, admiring the big, pleasant living-room, the cosy library, and then drifted back to the great hall, which was very large, even for a modern country house. It was wainscoted in dark wood, and contained many antique bits of furniture and some fine 149 specimens of old armour and other curios. Jim Kenerley’s father had been rather a noted collector, and had left his treasures to his only son. They had chosen this house as being roomy and well-fitted for their belongings.

Patty came back to the great fireplace, and stood there, leaning her golden head against one of the massive uprights.

“Adèle told me you were a peach,” exclaimed a laughing voice, “but she didn’t half tell me how much of a one you are!”

Patty turned her head slowly, and looked at Mr. Hal Ferris.

“And I thought you were a mannerly boy!” she said, in a tone of grave reproach.

“I beg your pardon,&rdq............