"Oh, well," said Philip, as he hung up the receiver again, "it doesn't matter much. They know we're safe, and they know where we are, and they know we couldn't start out in a storm like this." "Maybe they'll come for us with a motor," suggested Patty. "They might if we were nearer. But a motor would get stalled before it could get over here and back again in these drifts. It's an awful storm, Patty, and the sooner you make up your mind that we can't go home to-night, the better for all concerned." "My mind's made up, then," and Patty danced about the room. "I don't mind a bit! I think it's a lark. Do you have feather beds, Mrs. Fay?--I mean the kind you climb up to with step-ladders." "Land no, child! We ain't old-fashioned folks, you know. We have springs and mattresses just like you do at home. Well, I'm sorry if your folks are worried, but I'm glad to have you young people stay the night. Maybe this evening, you'll sing for us some more." "We will," said Philip. "We'll sing everything we know, and then make up some." Once having made up her mind to the inevitable, Patty ceased bothering about it, and proceeded to enjoy herself and to entertain everybody else. She chatted pleasantly with the old lady, she coquetted with Philip, and finally wandered out into the kitchen to make friends with Eliza. "Let me help you get supper," she said, for, to tell the truth, the novelty of the situation had passed, and Patty began to feel a little bored. "Supper ain't nothin' to get, miss," returned Eliza, a rawboned, countrified girl who was shy in the presence of this city lady. "Well, let me help you, anyway. Mayn't I set the table?" "I'm afraid you wouldn't know where the things was. Here, take this dish and go down cellar for the butter, if so be's you have to do somethin'. It's in a kag, underneath the swing-shelf." "Swing-shelf?" said Patty, interested--"what is a swing-shelf?" "Why, a shelf hanging from the ceiling, to keep things on." "But why does it hang from the ceiling? I never heard of such a thing." "Why, so the rats or mice can't get at the things." "Rats or mice!" and Patty gave a wild scream. "Here, take your plate, Eliza. I wouldn't go down there for a million billion dollars!" Patty ran back to the sitting-room. "Oh, Philip," she cried, "they have rats and mice! Can't we go home? I don't mind the storm!" "There, there, Patty," said Philip, meeting her half-way across the room, and taking her hand in his. "Don't be silly!" "I'm _not_ silly! But I _can't_ stay where they keep rats and mice! Why, Philip, they _expect_ them. They build high shelves on purpose for them." "You must excuse this little girl, Mrs. Fay," said Philip. "She's really sensible in most ways, but she's an absolute idiot about mice, and she can't help it. Why, the other night----"