Patty's gown was a long, sweeping robe of poinsettia red velvet. It would not have been becoming to most blondes, but Patty's fairness triumphed over all colour schemes. She wore a girdle of red velvet poinsettia blossoms and a wreath of small ones encircled her head. "You are so beautiful----" Blaney's soft, purring voice went on. "Don't make me blush," Patty laughed back. "Pink cheeks spoil the effect of this red gown. I must stay pale to suit it." "Pink or pale, you are perfect! I adore you." Embarrassed by the fervour of his tones, Patty turned to talk to the man at her other side. But he was engrossed in conversation with an aesthetic damsel, and so she gaily changed the subject. "How splendid the rooms look," she said, glancing about. "That grove of green trees is wonderfully picturesque." "That's where you're to dance," Blaney returned. "I looked after it myself. It's carpeted with pine needles, but they're soft, fresh ones, not dried ones. I'm sure they'll be comfy." "I dunno about dancing on 'em barefoot. I believe I'll wear sandals, after all." "Oh, no, you mustn't. Grantham has designed every detail so exquisitely, don't fail to follow his directions accurately. Your number will be the best of all. That's why we put it last. It will be an enormous hit,--a revelation!" "I hope they will like it. I've never danced before these people before. I've pleased ordinary audiences, but the Cosmos are so critical--it would break my heart if they didn't approve." "Of course they'll approve! They'll go crazy over you. But you must throw yourself utterly into the spirit of it. We know at once if you're afraid or over-reserved. Abandon must be your keynote. Real interpretation of Grantham's wonderful ideas." "They are wonderful," agreed Patty. "Mr. Grantham is a true poet. He sees Nature at her best and with an intuition almost divine." Her blue eyes shone with earnestness and Blaney gazed at her in adoration. "You perfect thing!" he murmured; "you have found your right environment among us. You are wasted on the ordinary, unthinking masses of society. You are Nature's child. What a pity you must live a conventional life. Patty, can't you break loose? Can't you give up your present hampering existence and come and throw in your lot with ours? Live here. Alla would warmly welcome you as a sister----" "And will you be my brother, Sam? I've never had a brother." "No, I refuse to be your brother! I'll be--well, say, your guardian. How'd you like to be my ward?" "I didn't know girls ever were wards except in old-fashioned novels. And there, they always marry their guardians." "Well?" "Oh, my gracious, is this a proposal!" Something in Blaney's tone had warned Patty that light banter was the best course, and she rattled on; "if so, postpone it, please. I really must go very soon and dress for my dance."