"Yes, I know it, Patsy. But remember, you don't _have_ to do it. Give the thing a fair trial, and if it doesn't go easily, give it up and try something else." "It goes easily enough; it isn't that. But you know yourself, you can't do really good embroidery if you do it too rapidly." "'Deed you can't! But you do such wonderfully perfect work, that I should think you could afford to slight it a little, and still have it better than other people's." "Nan, you're such a comfort!" cried Patty, jumping up to embrace her stepmother. "You always say just the very right thing. Now, I'm going back to work. I feel all rested now, and I'm sure I can finish a lot to-day. Why, Nan Fairfield! for goodness' sake! Is it really four o'clock?" Patty had just noticed the time, and was aghast! Two solid hours she had worked, and only a small portion of one piece was done! She hadn't dreamed the time had flown so, and thought it about three o'clock. Slightly disheartened at this discovery, she went back to work. At first, the silks went smoothly enough, then hurry and close application brought on the fidgets again. Before five o'clock, she had to turn on the electric lights, and then, to her dismay, the tints of the silks changed, and she couldn't tell yellow from pink; or green from gray. "Well," she thought, "I'll work the bow-knots. They're of one solid colour, and it's straight sailing." Straight sailing it was,--but very tedious. An untrue stitch spoiled the smooth continuance of the embroidery that was to represent tied ribbon bows. An untrue stitch--and she made several--had to be picked out and done over, and this often meant frayed silk, or an unsightly needle hole in the linen. Long before Patty thought it was time, the dressing-gong for dinner sounded. She jumped, greatly surprised at the flight of time, but also relieved, that now she _must_ lay aside her work. She longed to throw herself down on her couch and rest, but there was no time for that. However, after she bathed and dressed, she felt refreshed, and it was a bright, merry-faced Patty who danced downstairs to greet her father. If he thought her cheeks unusually pink, or her eyes nervously bright, he made no allusion to it. "Well, Puss, how goes the 'occupation'?" he said, patting her shoulder. "It's progressing, father," she replied, "but if you'd just as leave, we won't talk about it to-night. I'll tell you all about it, after I finish it." "All right, Pattykins; we business people never like to 'talk shop.'" And then Mr. Fairfield, who had been somewhat enlightened by Nan as to how matters stood, chatted gaily of other things, and Patty forgot her troublesome work, and was quite her own gay, saucy self again. Kenneth dropped in in the evening, to bring a song which he had promised Patty. They tried it over together, and then Patty said: "Would you mind, Ken, if I ask you not to stay any longer, to-night? I've something I want to do, and----"