"Oh, how lovely," cried Aunt Isabel, kissing her niece in the exuberance of her delight. "We will all call you Patricia. It is a beautiful name and suits you extremely well. You must stand very straight, and acquire dignified manners in order to live up to it." This made merry Patty laugh, but she offered no objection to her aunt's decision, and promised to sign her name Patricia whenever she wrote it, and to make no further use of the despised nickname while staying at Villa Rosa. Ethelyn was pleased too, at the change. "Oh," she said, "now your name is as pretty as mine and Florelle's, and we have the prettiest names in Elmbridge. Here comes Reginald, you haven't seen him yet." Reginald St. Clair, a lad of thirteen, advanced without a trace of shyness and greeted his new cousin. "So it is Patricia," he said, as he took her hand; "I heard them rechristening you. How do you do, Cousin Patricia?" "Very well, I thank you," she replied, smiling, "and though I meet you the last of my new cousins, you are not the least," and she glanced up at him, for Reginald was a tall boy for his age, taller than either Ethelyn or Patty. "Not the least in any way, as you'll soon find out if you stay with us, Cousin Patricia." Patty almost laughed at this boastful assumption of importance, but seeing that the boy was in earnest, she humored him by saying: "As the only son, I suppose you _are_ the flower of the family." Then dinner was announced, and the beautiful dining-room was a new pleasure to the little visitor. She was rapidly making the discovery that riches and luxury were very agreeable, and she viewed with delight the handsome table sparkling with fine glass and silver. "Well, Patricia," said Uncle Robert, who had been warned against using the objectionable nickname, "how do you like Villa Rosa so far?" "Oh, I think it is beautiful, Uncle Robert. Every room is handsomer than the last, and my own room I like best of all. You're awfully good, Aunt Isabel, to give me such a lovely room, and to spend so much thought and time arranging it for me." "And money, too," said her aunt, smiling. "That rug in your room, Patricia, cost four hundred dollars." "Did it really?" said Patty, with such a look of amazement, almost horror, that they all laughed. You see, Patty had never been used to such expensive rugs, still less had she been accustomed to hearing the prices of things mentioned so freely. "Oh, Aunt Isabel, I'd rather not have it then. Really, I'd much rather have a cheaper one. Suppose I should spoil it in some way." "Nonsense, my dear, spoil it if you like, I'll buy you another," said Uncle Robert, grandly. "Never mind rugs," interrupted Reginald. "I say, mother, aren't you going to give a party for Patricia?" "Yes, I think so," answered his mother, "but I haven't decided yet what kind of an affair it shall be." "Oh, have a smashing big party, and invite everybody."