"Did he come to invite you to the picnic, Patty?" Flossy asked, munching at her pop-corn. "What would you give to know?" laughed her cousin. "But Mr. Blood has come to invite you, at least: so you are provided for." In such a situation what was a bashful man to do, particularly if, like Burleigh, he was not sure that he was offended at the turn affairs had taken? Patty was an old friend, indeed, in Montfield parlance a "flame" of the young man's; yet certainly the stranger cousin exercised over him a peculiar fascination. He left the house as the promised escort of Miss Plant, and went home, wondering whether Patty did not know he came to invite her, and whether he were glad or sorry things had turned out as they had. The long sunny day wore on, and no third invitation came for Patty. She kept her own counsel so completely that the family thought she had accepted young Toxteth's escort,--an impression which she took pains not to dissipate. But, although outwardly gay, she grew more and more heavy-hearted as the day passed with no sign of Mr. Putnam. CHAPTER III. "A BIRD IN THE HAND." The day of the picnic dawned as fair and sweet as if made for a pure girl's wedding, or a children's holiday. The gathering was to take place at Mackerel Cove, a little bay jutting inward, amid lovely groves of beech-trees, from a larger inlet of the Atlantic. A drive of a dozen miles stretched between the cove and Montfield; the picnickers taking their own time for starting, and speed in going, the rendezvous being at the hour fixed for dinner. Patty saw the family depart one by one. First Will went to call for Ease Apthorpe, the lady-elect of his heart or fancy; then Dr. Sanford drove off with his wife, intending to visit certain patients on the way; and, last of all, Flossy was swung lightly up into his buggy by the mighty arms of Burleigh Blood. "Don't you mean to go at all?" the latter asked of Patty, who came running after them with Flossy's bowl of pop-corn. "I never tell my plans," she laughed gayly. "Mother went off predicting that something dreadful was sure to happen. How do you know but I am afraid to go?" "Pooh! She's going with Clarence Toxteth," Flossy said. "But"--began her escort. "There! Drive on, and don't bother about me," said Patty. "I have usually been thought able to take care of my own affairs. A pleasant ride to you." She turned back toward the lonely house. Bathalina Clemens was at work somewhere in the chambers, counteracting any tendency to too great cheerfulness which the beauty of the day might develop in her mind, by singing the most doleful of minors:-- "'Hearken, ye sprightly, and attend, ye vain ones; Pause in your mirth, adversity consider; Learn from a friend's pen sentimental, painful Death-bed reflections,'"