Patty was thirteen and a half; an exquisite person with gold-dusted hair, eyes of singing blue, and an alluring air of sweet self-consciousness. Henry Rooter and Herbert Illingsworth Atwater, Jr., out gathering news, saw her entering Florence's gate, and immediately forgot that they were reporters. They became silent, gradually moving toward the house of their newspaper's sole poetess. Florence and Patty occupied themselves indoors for half an hour; then went out in the yard to study a mole's tunnel that had interested Florence recently. They followed it across the lawn at the south side of the house, discussing the habits of moles and other matters of zooelogy; and finally lost the track near the fence, which was here the "side fence" and higher than their heads. Patty looked through a knot-hole to see if the tunnel was visible in the next yard, but, without reporting upon her observations, she turned, as if carelessly, and leaned back against the fence, covering the knot-hole. "Florence," she said, in a tone softer than she had been using heretofore;--"Florence, do you know what I think?" "No. Could you see any more tracks over there?" "Florence," said Patty;--"I was just going to tell you something, only maybe I better not." "Why not?" Florence inquired. "Go on and tell me." "No," said Patty gently. "You might think it was silly." "No, I won't." "Yes, you _might_." "I promise I won't." "Well, then--oh, Florence I'm _sure_ you'll think it's silly!" "I _promised_ I wouldn't." "Well--I don't think I better say it." "Go on," Florence urged. "Patty, you _got_ to." "Well, then, if I got to," said Patty. "What I was going to say, Florence: Don't you think your cousin Herbert and Henry Rooter have got the nicest eyes of any boy in town?" "_Who_?" Florence was astounded. "I do," Patty said in her charming voice. "I think Herbert and Henry've got the nicest eyes of any boy in town." "You do?" Florence cried incredulously. "Yes, I really do, Florence. I think Herbert Atwater and Henry Rooter have got the nicest eyes of any boy in town." "Well, I never heard anything like _this_ before!" Florence declared. "But _don't_ you think they've got the nicest eyes of any boy in town?" Patty insisted, appealingly. "I think," said Florence, "their eyes are just horrable!" "What?" "_Herbert's_ eyes," continued Florence, ardently, "are the very worst lookin' ole squinty eyes I ever saw, and that nasty little Henry _Rooter's_ eyes----" But Patty had suddenly become fidgety; she hurried away from the fence. "Come over here, Florence," she said. "Let's go over to the other side of the yard and talk."