And she did. When the small, shy Southern girl arrived that afternoon, and Patty herself showed her up to her room, she seemed to respond at once to the warm cosiness of the place. "It's just such a room as I've often imagined, but I've never seen," she said, smiling round upon the dainty, attractive appointments. "You dear!" cried Patty, throwing her arms round her guest and kissing her. When she had first met Christine downstairs she was embarrassed herself at the Southern girl's painful shyness. When Miss Farley had tried to speak words of greeting a lump came into her throat and she couldn't speak at all. To put her more at her ease Patty had led her at once upstairs, and now the presence of only warm-hearted Patty and the view of the welcoming room made her forget her embarrassment and seem more like her natural self. "I cannot thank you," she began. "I am a bit bewildered by it all." "Of course you are," said Patty, cheerily. "Don't bother about thanks. And don't feel shy. Let's pretend we've known each other for years--long enough to use first names. May I take your hat off, Christine?" Tears sprang to Christine Farley's eyes at this whole-souled welcome, and she said: "You make me ashamed of my stupid shyness. Really I'll try to overcome it--Patty." And soon the two girls were chatting cosily and veritably as if they had been acquainted a long time. Presently Nan came in. "If you prefer, Miss Farley," she said, "you needn't come down to dinner to-night. I'll have a tray sent up here. I know you're tired with your journey." "No, thank you, Mrs. Fairfield; I'm not tired--and I think I'll go down." The girl would have greatly preferred to accept the offer of dining in her own room, but she felt it her duty to conquer the absurd timidity which made her dread facing strangers at dinner. "I'll be glad if you will," said Nan, simply. "Mr. Fairfield will like to welcome you, and Mr. Hepworth will be the only other guest. You are not afraid of him?" "Oh, no," said Christine, her face lighting up at thought of her kind friend. "He has been so good to me. His criticisms of my work helped me more than any of my teachers'." "Yes, he is an able artist and a man of true kindness and worth," agreed Nan. "Very well, Miss Farley, we dine at seven." "Now, Nan," began Patty, smiling, "that's the wrong tone. We're going to make this girlie feel homelike and comfortable and omit all formality. We're going to call her by her first name, and we're going to treat her as one of ourselves. Now you just revise that little speech of 'We dine at seven, Miss Farley.'" "All right," said Nan, quickly catching Patty's idea. "I'm glad to revise it. How's this? Dinner's at seven, Christine, but you hop into your clothes and come on down earlier." "That's a lot better," said Patty, approvingly patting her stepmother's shoulder, while Christine Farley, who was all unaccustomed to this sort of raillery, looked on in admiration.