When the party began, she stood beside her aunt and Ethelyn and received the guests as they arrived. About fifty boys and girls came, and to Patty they all seemed like overdressed and artificial little puppets. The girls put on grown-up airs, walked with mincing steps and giggled behind their fans, while the boys were affected and absurdly formal. Patty had thought there would be games or amusements of some youthful sort, but dancing and promenading alternated throughout the evening. However, she was fond of dancing, and as she was quickly becoming a general favorite, her card was soon filled with the names of the nicest boys in the room. It was all very pleasant for a short time, but soon Patty grew very tired and secretly longed for supper to be announced. At last this came to pass, and the children marched out to the dining-room where another beautiful sight awaited them. The caterers had been as skilful as the decorators, and the table was filled with marvelous confections of rich foods. Patty had never seen such wonderful things, and she almost thought the pheasants were alive; and the big salmon looked as if it had just been taken from the water. Then there were salads and croquettes, and funny little paper dishes filled with strange, delicious mixtures, and after all these, came creams and jellies and ices, and cakes and bonbons in all sorts of odd shapes and colors. Patty thought these things were too pretty to be eaten, but they were quickly demolished by the young people, who were hearty, hungry boys and girls, in spite of their affected manners. After supper the dancing and promenading began again, and was kept up until midnight, and Patty was a very tired little girl after she had said good-night to all the guests and the last carriage had rolled away from Villa Rosa. Ethelyn was tired too, and decidedly cross. "I didn't have a very good time," she said; "that horrid old Gladys Mahoney had a prettier dress than mine; and I broke my new fan, and my slippers are so tight, they hurt me awfully." "Pooh, I know what makes you cross," said Reginald, "just 'cause Bob Burton didn't dance with you as much as he did with Mabel Miller." "I'm not cross," retorted Ethelyn, "and I didn't want to dance with Bob Burton. If I were you, I'd try to learn some manners; Lou Smith says you're the rudest boy she ever saw." "I don't care what Lou Smith says, little, freckle-faced thing! I don't see why she was invited here, anyway." "Stop quarreling, children," said Mrs. St. Clair, "and go to bed at once. Patricia, I hope you enjoyed the party; I'm sure I tried to have it nice, but everything seemed to go wrong, the salad wasn't fit to eat and the ice cream was half melted." "Why, Aunt Isabel," said Patty, "I think everything was lovely. I never saw such a supper-table in my life, and the decorations were exquisite." "Well, I didn't think so. It does seem a shame to pay out so much money, and then not have things to your liking."