"
"You shan't call yourself those horrid names," said Patty, for his
tones rang true, and she began to appreciate his honest nature;
"no one can be uncouth or uncultured who loves such reading. Don't
you love the big poets, too?"
"Yes; but I suppose everybody does that. I say, won't you come
outside for a bit? That room is stuffy, and the air out here now
is great. Couldn't you skip down with me for a whiff of the sea?"
"Why, I ought to be dressing for dinner."
"Oh, there's lots of time yet. Come on. Don't tell anybody, just
fly out at this window, like Peter Pan, and we'll elope for half
an hour."
Acting impulsively, Patty swung herself through the low window,
and had descended the picturesque outside stairway that led from
the upper veranda to the lower one before she remembered Daisy's
prohibition.
"Oh, I think I won't go down to the beach," she said, suddenly
pausing at the foot of the stairs. "I must go right back."
"Nothing of the sort," and Farnsworth grasped her arm and fairly
marched her along the path to the gate. "You're not a quitter, I
know, so what silly notion popped into your head just then?"
Patty laughed outright at his quick appreciation of her mood.
"Well," she parried, "you see, I don't know you very well.
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