Jane shook her head dubiously. "Not what I'd call a 'perfect' character--not that I've got anything against Sister Todd; but she's too fond of finding out a body's faults." Patience went off then in search of empty tea-cups. She was having a beautiful time; at present only one cloud overshadowed her horizon. Already some tiresome folks were beginning to think about going. There was the talk of chores to be done, suppers to get, and with the breaking up, must come an end to her share in the party. For mother, though approached in the most delicate fashion, had proved obdurate regarding the further festivity to follow. Had mother been willing to consider the matter, Patience would have cheerfully undertaken to procure the necessary invitation. Shirley was a very obliging girl. "And really, my dears," she said, addressing the three P's collectively, "it does seem a pity to have to go home before the fun's all over. And I could manage it--Bob would take me out rowing--if I coaxed--he rows very slowly. I don't suppose, for one moment, that we would get back in time. I believe--" For fully three minutes, Patience sat quite still in one of the studio window seats, oblivious of the chatter going on all about her; then into her blue eyes came a look not seen there very often--"No," she said sternly, shaking her head at Phil, much to his surprise, for he wasn't doing anything. "No--it wouldn't be _square_--and there would be the most awful to-do afterwards." When a moment or two later, Mrs. Shaw called to her to come, that father was waiting, Patience responded with a very good grace. But Mr. Dayre caught the wistful look in the child's face. "Bless me," he said heartily. "You're not going to take Patience home with you, Mrs. Shaw? Let her stay for the tea--the young people won't keep late hours, I assure you." "But I think--" Mrs. Shaw began very soberly. "Sometimes, I find it quite as well not to think things over," Mr. Dayre suggested. "Why, dear me, I'd quite counted on Patience's being here. You see, I'm not a regular member, either; and I want someone to keep me in countenance." So presently, Hilary felt a hand slipped eagerly into hers. "I'm staying! I'm staying!" an excited little voice announced. "And oh, I just love Mr. Dayre!" Then Patience went back to her window seat to play the delightful game of "making believe" she hadn't stayed. She imagined that instead, she was sitting between father and mother in the gig, bubbling over with the desire to "hi-yi" at Fanny, picking her slow way along. The studio was empty, even the dogs were outside, speeding the parting guests with more zeal than discretion. But after awhile Harry Oram strolled in. "I'm staying!" Patience announced. She approved of Harry. "You're an artist, too, aren't you?" she remarked. "So kind of you to say so," Harry murmured. "I have heard grave doubts expressed on the subject by my too impartial friends."