Elise, too, did a rushing business in the library. She had several assistants, and they were all kept at work by the kind patrons. Many worthwhile books had been given the girls, and there were beside, library furnishings, and a few autographed books and letters that commanded large prices. A set of Riley's works was on sale, and these Farnsworth bought, requesting that they remain in their place until his further directions. "Whatever are you going to do with them, Bill?" asked Elise, who looked like a pretty Portia in her cap and gown. "Why not peruse them myself?" he returned. "But I chance to know that you have a set of Riley." "Well, maybe, I'll give them to somebody as a gift. If I can't find anybody to accept them, I'll turn them over to your girls' library." "Oh, I dare say you can give them away. A beautiful set like that! Why, they're Russia bound!" "Why, so they are!" "As if he didn't know that!" exclaimed one of the girls to Elise, as Farnsworth sauntered away. "Why, he gave that set to the sale!" "He did! And then bought them back again!" "Yes, that's just what he has done." "Oh, well, then, he does mean to give them to somebody,--somebody in particular." And Farnsworth certainly did mean to give them to somebody in particular. He designed them as a gift for Patty. He knew she would enjoy the poems, and he chose the edition with great care. Then, to enhance the value, he made it a present to the Club Sale, and promptly bought it back. The big Westerner made his way through the crowds, stopping here and there to buy a flower or a trinket from the beguiling vendors. He looked in at the dining-room, and saw the long table set with marvelous confections, each to be sold with its dish of fine china or crystal. Also, on side tables were center-pieces, doilies, and napkins of all varieties of embroidery and decoration. A large back veranda had been arranged as a refreshment room, and here Farnsworth discovered Nan and Mr. Fairfield eating ice cream. "Join us," they begged, but a smiling headshake was the negative reply. "I'm on a still hunt for Patty. I'm told she's upstairs." "Yes, in her own rooms," said Nan. "But you can't get in, the place is jammed. Wait till she has sold off a lot of stuff, then there'll be at least standing room. I've just come down from there and I never saw such a crowd." "I'm fairly good at stemming crowds,--I think I'll go up." Farnsworth squared his broad shoulders and started up the stairway. By tactful manoeuvring, rather than by muscular strength, he gained his goal, and stood in the doorway of Patty's boudoir. She was showing off a boudoir set to a prospective purchaser. It was of pale blue brocaded satin, edged with swansdown. There was a fetching lace cap with blue bows and little yellow rosebuds; also dainty blue slippers with rosebuds on them. Gaily, Patty donned the lovely garments, over her fluffy white frock, and pirouetted before her own cheval glass.