There were still a few embers of a wood fire glowing on the hearth, and Patty sat down before it in a big arm-chair. "I don't know why I'm so glad," she said to herself, her weariness all gone now. "But I did feel neglected to have Little Billee send the other girls cards, and leave me out. I'd like to see it; I hardly glanced at theirs,--though I remember, they weren't very pretty. I'd like to see Little Billee again, but I don't suppose I ever shall. Well, there are plenty of other nice boys in the world, so it doesn't matter much. All the same, I'd like to see that card. I believe I'll go down and get it. There's always a low light in the hall, and I can feel it between the books." Patty hesitated for some time, but finally her impatience or curiosity got the better of her, and she softly opened her door and peeped out. There were low lights in the halls, and as she listened over the banister and heard no sounds, Patty began to creep softly down the stairs. Her trailing robe of light blue crepe de chine was edged with swansdown, and she drew it about her, as she noiselessly tiptoed along in her slippered feet. The hall light shone dimly into the library, through which Patty could see a brighter light in the smoking-room beyond. She listened a moment, but hearing no voices, concluded she could creep into the library, capture her card, and return undiscovered. "And, anyway," she thought to herself, "there can't be anybody in the smoking-room, or I would hear them talking." It was easy to proceed without a sound by stepping softly along the thick rugs, and as Patty knew exactly where the cyclopaedias were shelved, she made straight for that bookcase. It was next to the smoking-room doorway, and as Patty reached it, she peeped around the portiere to make sure that the next room was unoccupied. But to her surprise, she saw Philip Van Reypen stretched out in a big arm-chair in front of the fire. His eyes were closed, but Patty saw he was not asleep, as he was slowly smoking a cigar. Patty saw him sidewise, and she stood for a second contemplating the handsome profile and the fine physique of the man, who looked especially graceful in his careless and unconscious position. Almost holding her breath, lest he should hear her, Patty moved noiselessly to the shelves, being then out of sight behind a portiere. By slow, careful movements, it was easy enough to move the books silently, and at last she discovered the blue envelope, tucked between two of them. She drew it out without a sound,--careful lest the paper should crackle,--and started to retrace her stealthy steps upstairs again, when she saw the hem of the portiere move the veriest trifle. "A mouse!" she thought to herself, with a terrified spasm of fear, for Patty was foolishly afraid of mice. Unable to control herself, she sprang up into a soft easy-chair and perched on the back of it.