"No, I don't think I'm mercenary," she said, slowly, "but, Nan, you never know what may happen. Suppose father should lose all his money." "Nonsense! he can't do that. It's most carefully invested, and you know, Patty, he thinks of retiring from business in a year or two more." "I know it," said Patty, with a little sigh. "I know we're rich. Not wealthy, like the Farringtons, but plenty rich enough. Only, you often hear of rich men losing their money, and sometimes I think I ought to save up some." "Goosie!" said Nan, smiling fondly at her; "don't bother your curly head about such things before it's necessary." "All right, then, I won't," said Patty, shaking the curly head and smiling back. That afternoon she went to see Clementine Morse. Clementine had called one day when Patty was not at home, so this was the first time the girls had met since Patty's return. The maid asked Patty to go right up to Clementine's own room, and there Patty found her friend surrounded by what looked like a whirlwind of rainbow-coloured rags. On tables, chairs, and even on the floor, were scraps and bits of silks, satins, ribbons, and laces, and in a low chair sat Clementine, sewing rapidly, as if for dear life. But at sight of Patty, she jumped up, upsetting her work-basket, and flew to greet her guest. "You dear thing!" she cried, as she embraced her; "I was so sorry not to see you when I called. I should have come again, but I'm so rushed with Christmas work, that I can't go anywhere until Christmas is over. Do take off your things and sit down, and don't mind if I go on sewing, will you? I can talk just as well, you know." "Apparently you can!" said Patty, laughing, for as she chatted, Clementine had already resumed her work, and her fingers flew nimbly along the satin seams. "What _are_ you doing?" "Dressing dolls," said Clementine, as she threaded her needle; "and I've forty-five still to do,--but their underclothing is done, so it's only a matter of frocks, and some hats. Did you have a good time in Europe?" Clementine talked very fast, apparently to keep time with her flying fingers, and as Patty picked up a lot of dry goods in order that she might occupy the chair they were in, her hostess rattled on. "How did you like Venice? Was it lovely by moonlight? Oh, would you put this scarlet velvet on the spangled lace,--or save it for this white chiffon?" "Clementine! do keep still a minute!" cried Patty; "you'll drive me frantic! What _are_ you doing with all these dolls?" "Dressing them. How did you like Paris? Was it very gay? And was London smoky,--foggy, I mean?" "Yes; everything was gay or smoky or lovely by moonlight, or just what it ought to be. Now tell me _why_ you dress four hundred million dolls all at once." "Oh, they're for the Sunshine Babies. Was Naples very dirty? How did you like----" "Clementine, you leave the map of Europe alone. I'm talking now! What are Sunshine Babies?"