"
"Yes," said Cromer, unconscious of any absurdity; "Miss Fairfield
is a fine subject."
"That's better than being called an object," said Roger, joining
them, "and you DID look an object, Patty, when I arrived! Your wig
was all awry,--and--"
"You haven't a soul for art?" said Cromer, looking solemnly at
Roger.
"No, I haven't an artful soul, I fear. How are you getting along,
Patty, down here without your fond but strict parents?"
"Getting along finely, Roger. Aunt Adelaide plays propriety, and
Mona and I keep house."
"H'm, I'm 'fraid I scared off our long-haired friend," said Roger,
as Cromer rose and drifted away. "Never mind, I want to talk to
you a little myself. I say, Patsy, don't you let these men flatter
you till you're all puffed up with pride and vanity."
"Now, Roger, AM I that kind of a goose?"
"Well, you're blossoming out so, and getting so growny-uppy
looking, I'm 'fraid you won't be my little Patty-friend much
longer."
"'Deed I shall! Don't you worry about that. How do you think Mona
is looking?"
"Fine! Lots better than when I saw her in May. She dresses better,
don't you think?"
"Yes, I guess she does," said Patty, demurely, with no hint as to
WHY Mona's appearance had improved.
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