At half-past five Mrs. Farrington sent the girls home in her carriage. The four who lived farthest were sent first and this left the two Hart girls and Patty to wait for the second trip.

They had returned to the Farrington house and were waiting in the library. Roger was there, and also two of Elise’s younger sisters. Patty was glad to see more of the Farrington family and chatted pleasantly with the little girls. But before she went away Roger found an opportunity to speak to her again.

“I say, you know,” he began, “I don’t know just how to express it, but I want to thank you for the way you talked to me. It wasn’t so much what you said, but that brave, plucky kind of talk does brace a fellow up wonderfully and I’m no end obliged to you.”

“You’re more than welcome, I’m sure,” said Patty, smiling; “but I didn’t say anything worth while. I wish I could really help you, but if you’ll just look on the bright side, you know you can help yourself a whole lot.”

“You help other poor little boys in hospitals,” said Roger; “you go to see Tommy Skelling.”

“Well, I can’t go to see you,” said Patty, laughing; “but I’ll tell you what I will do; I’ll make a scrap-book for you, or a peanut doll, whichever you’d rather have.”

“I think I’ll take the scrap-book,” said Roger, with the air of one making an important decision. “You see I might be tempted to eat up the peanut doll.”

“That’s so; well, I’ll promise to make you a nice little scrap-book and send it to you next week. And I hope you’ll get along all right, and, honestly, I think you will.”

“I think so, too,” said Roger, cheerfully; and then the carriage returned and Patty went home.

That evening she told her father all about the Farringtons.

“It was so funny, papa,” she said, “to be visiting in one of those grand millionaire houses. Why, it’s like those that are pictured in the magazines, you know. And I thought that those people were always ostentatious and purse-proud and generally snippy to us poorer classes. But the Farringtons aren’t that way a bit. They’re refined and gentle and awfully kind. They have some queer ways, and somehow they seem a little discontented—not entirely happy, you know—but very pleasant and sweet to us girls. But aren’t Elise’s parents good to her to give her all that pleasure? The Casino, I mean.”

“The Casino is truly a splendid thing,” said Mr. Fairfield, “but do you think it necessarily shows that Mr. and Mrs. Farrington are more fond of their children than other people are?”

Patty thought a while, quite seriously; then she said: “I believe I see what you mean. You mean that Mr. Farrington is fond of his children, just as other fathers are; but that he happens to have money enough to give them bigger things. Because I know, Papa Fairfield, that if you had millions of dollars, you’d be plenty fond enough of me to give me a dozen Casinos, wouldn’t you?”

“Two dozen, if you wanted them, Puss, and if I could afford them. Yes, that’s what I mean, Patty, and it’s the old question of proportion. From what I know in a general way of Mr. Farrington and from what you tell me of their home life, I believe they have a good sense of proportion and are consequently people who are pleasant to know. But, my child, you must look out for your own sense of proportion. Remember Elise is a rich girl and lives in luxury, but you are not; and while we are in fairly comfortable circumstances, I want you to realise the difference and not feel envious of her, or discontented because you can’t live as she does.”

“Indeed I don’t, papa; I’m not quite such a goose as that, as you ought to know by this time. But I do like to visit there and I enjoy the lovely house and the beautiful pictures and things.”

“That’s all right, Patty girl, if you like Elise, too. But I don’t want you to cultivate anybody just for the sake of their beautiful home and pleasant entertainment.”

“I do like Elise, papa, very much; she’s a peculiar girl and I don’t think I quite understand her yet. But there’s a good deal to her and the more I see of her, the better I like her. She has invited me to lunch there on Saturday, and afterwards go to a matinée with her. The French governess will take us, and Mrs. Farrington told Elise she might ask me. May I go, papa?”

“Why, yes, child, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t. I want you to have all the good times that it’s right for a little girl to have. What is the matinée?”

“I forget the name of it, but it’s one of those ‘Humpty Dumpty’ sort of shows, with fairies and wonderful scenes. Elise says it was brought over from London, and it’s something like what they call a Christmas pantomime over there.”

“That’s all right, Chicken; you may go, and I hope you’ll have a beautiful time. And then some day you must invite Elise here to luncheon and I’ll take you both to a show.”

“Oh, papa, that will be lovely! How good you are to me. I haven’t seen Mr. Farrington yet, but I’m sure he isn’t a quarter as handsome as you are, if he is twice as rich.”

“He’s probably a hundred times as rich,” said Mr. Fairfield, laughing, “and twice as handsome.”

“I don’t believe a word of it,” said Patty, smiling at her father, “and Nan wouldn’t, either.”

“I don’t believe she would. Between you two flatterers I run a fair chance of being completely spoiled.”

“When shall I see Nan?” asked Patty; “isn’t she coming to New York this winter?”

“Yes, after the holidays she and Mrs. Allen are coming to town for a month or so.”

“Lovely! where will they be? At The Wilberforce?”

“No, they will stay at a hotel farther uptown, where Mrs. Allen’s sister lives.”

“I’ll be awfully glad to see Nan again; and the girls will all like her, too, I’m sure. Papa, do you know, I think I have a very lovely lot of friends, counting you, and Nan, and Grandma, and all the Grigs.”

“And Kenneth?”

“Oh, yes; if you count boys, Kenneth and Clifford Morse and now Roger Farrington. He’s an awfully nice boy, papa.”

“Yes, I think so, Puss, from what you told me about him; and I’m sorry............