"There are a lot of boys going," said Patty. "But the only young men will be my father and Uncle Charley and Mr. Hepworth." "Who is Mr. Hepworth?" "He's an artist friend of papa's, who comes out quite often, and who always goes sailing with us when we have sailing parties." Aunt Alice was more than willing to help Patty with her project, and the result was a very pretty little afternoon tea at Boxley Hall. "I'm so glad I brought my white crêpe-de-chine," said Aunt Isabel, as she dressed for the occasion. "I'm glad, too," said Patty; "for it's a lovely gown and you look sweet in it." "I've brought a lot of pretty dresses, too," said Ethelyn, "and I suppose I may as well put on one of the prettiest to-day, as there's no use in wasting them on those children's parties you're talking about." "Do just as you like, Ethelyn," said Patty, knowing that her cousin was always overdressed on all occasions, and therefore it made little difference what she wore. And, sure enough, Ethelyn arrayed herself in a most resplendent gown which, though very beautiful, was made in a style more suited to a belle of several seasons than a young miss of sixteen. Patty wore one of her pretty little white house dresses; and Aunt Alice, in a lovely gray gown, assisted her to receive the guests, and to introduce Mrs. St. Clair and her children. Among the late arrivals was Miss Daggett. Her coming created a sensation, for, as was well known in Vernondale, she rarely attended social affairs of any sort. But, for some unknown reason, she chose to accept Patty's invitation, and, garbed in an old-fashioned brown velvet, she was presented to Mrs. St. Clair. "I'm so glad to see you," said the latter, shaking hands effusively. "Humph!" said Miss Daggett. "Why should you be glad to see me, pray?" "Why, because--because--" Mrs. St. Clair floundered a little, and seemed really unable to give any reason. "Because you've heard that I'm rich and old and queer?" said Miss Daggett. This was exactly true, but Mrs. St. Clair did not care to admit it, so she said: "Why, no, not that; but I've heard my niece speak of you so often that I felt anxious to meet you." "Well, I'm not afraid of anything Patty Fairfield said about me; she's a dear little girl; I'm very fond of her." "Why do you call her little girl?" said Mrs. St. Clair. "Patty is in her seventeenth year; surely that is not quite a child." "But she is a child at heart," said Miss Daggett, "and I am glad of it. I would far rather see her with her pretty, sunshiny childish ways than to see her like that overdressed little minx standing over there beside her, whoever she may be." "That's my daughter," said Mrs. St. Clair, without, however, looking as deeply offended as she might have done. "Oh, is it?" said Miss Daggett, sniffing. "Well, I see no reason to change my opinion of her, if she is."