Naturally, she chose azaleas, and some of a lovely soft tint of buff harmonised with pale pink ones. White ones too, with a bit of green foliage, until the room was a bower of beauty. Not overdone, though. Patty never made the mistake of too many flowers,--fond as she was of them. A last affectionate survey of the room convinced her that all was exactly as it should be, and with a happy little sigh of contentment she went down to the porch to await the arrival of the guest, for Farnsworth had gone to the station to meet her, and they were due now at any minute. CHAPTER V THAT AWFUL AZALEA The car came along the driveway and stopped in front of the porch where Patty sat. Farnsworth stepped out, with a cheery "Here we are!" and Patty rose to greet the visitor. Up the steps toward her flew a figure which, as Patty afterward described it, seemed like a wild Indian! A slight, wiry figure, rather tall and very awkward, and possessed of a nervous force that expressed itself in muscular activity. "Oh, how do you do?" the girl cried, explosively. "You're Cousin Patty,--aren't you?" But even as she spoke, she stumbled on the steps, pitched forward, falling on Patty, and but for Farnsworth's quick action would have knocked her down. "Jiminy crickets! Ain't I the tangle-foot! Guess I'm getting in bad at the very start. Hope I didn't hurt you." "Not at all," said Patty, recovering her poise, both mental and physical. "You are very welcome, Azalea. Will you sit here a few minutes before we go in the house?" "Sure! I'll spill myself right into this double-decker!" She threw herself into a long wicker lounging-seat, of the steamer-chair type, and stretched out her feet in evident enjoyment of the relaxation. "Well, this is comfort, after travelling cross country for days and days! I say, Cousin, it was awful good of you to ask me." "Think so?" and Patty tried to smile pleasantly. She avoided catching Bill's eye, for the poor man was overcome with shame and consternation that his relative should be so impossible. "Yep,--I do. My! this place of yours is swell. I never saw such a grand house--close to. You're rich, ain't you, Cousin William?" "So, so," Farnsworth replied, gazing at the girl in a sort of horrified fascination. "You've changed since last we met," he went on, in an endeavour to make casual conversation. "Well, yes, I s'pose so. They tell me I was a squalling young one when you were at the Corners. Was I a terror?" "Not then!" Bill wanted to answer, but of course he didn't. "Not at all," he said, pleasantly. "You were a pretty baby--" "But greatly changed,--hey?" The girl gave him a quick glance. She was not ill-looking, as to features and colouring, but her whole effect was unattractive,--even repelling.