Patty's Suitors. Wells Carolyn

in her blue silk dressing gown while the maid brushed her hair. Then she brought her a cup of hot milk, and left her for the night.

      Patty wasn't sleepy, and she dawdled around her room, now and then sipping the milk, and then looking over her engagements for the next day.

      "Oh," she thought, suddenly, "I've left my fan at the party. I'm sorry, for it's my pet fan. Of course it will be safe there, but I think I'll telephone Marie to look it up and put it away."

      Knowing that the Homers would not yet have retired, Patty picked up her telephone and called the number.

      A masculine voice gave back a cheery "Hello!"

      "Is this Mr. Homer?" said Patty.

      "No, indeed. I'm Kit Cameron. Who are you, please?"

      "Isn't this The Wimbledon apartment house?"

      "It sure is."

      "Isn't this 6483?"

      "No, it's 6843. Please tell me who you are?"

      A spirit of mischief entered into Patty. She knew this must be Marie

      Homer's cousin, who lived on the floor above the Homers, and who, Mrs.

      Homer had said, detested girls.

      "But I have the wrong number," she said. "I didn't mean to call you."

      "But since you did call me, you must tell me who you are."

      "I'm a captive princess," said Patty, in rather a melancholy tone. "I'm imprisoned in the dungeon of a castle."

      "How awful! May I get a squad of soldiers and come to your rescue, oh, fair lady?"

      "Nay, nay, Sir Knight; and anyway you do not know that I am a fair lady."

      "Your voice tells me that. Surely such musical tones could belong only to the most beautiful princess in the world."

      "Oh, yes, I am THAT," and Patty laughed, roguishly; "but a well-behaved princess would not be talking to a strange man. So I must say good-bye."

      "Oh, no, no! wait a minute; you haven't told me your name yet."

      "And I don't intend to. You detest girls, anyway."

      "Yes, I always have, but you see I never met a princess before."

      "You haven't met me yet."

      "But I shall! Don't make any mistake about that."

      "How can you? I'm going to ring off now, and you have no way of tracing me."

      "I can find out from Central."

      "No, you can't."

      "Why can't I?"

      "Because I forbid you to do so."

      "All right; then I can't find out that way, but I'll find out some other way. I'll go on a quest."

      "Goodness, what is a quest?"

      "Oh, it just means that I henceforth devote my whole life to finding you."

      "But you can't find me, when you don't know my name."

      "I'll make up a name for you. I'll call you Princess Poppycheek."

      "How could you guess I'm a brunette?"

      "I can tell it from your voice. You have snapping black eyes and dark curly hair, and the reddest of red cheeks."

      "Exactly right!" exclaimed Patty, giggling to think how far this description was from her blonde pink-and-white type.

      "I knew it was right!" exclaimed the voice, exultantly; "and I shall find you very soon."

      "Then I shall await your coming with interest. You prefer brunettes, do you?"

      "Well, as a matter of fact, I have always admired blondes more, but I'm quite willing to change my tastes for you. Do you sing?"

      For answer, Patty sang softly into the telephone, the little song of

      "Beware, take care, she is fooling thee."

      Although she did little more than hum it, Mr. Cameron was greatly impressed with her voice.

      "By jove!" he exclaimed. "You CAN sing! Now, I can find you easily.

      There are not many voices like that in this wicked world."

      "Do you sing yourself? But I don't want to know, I haven't the least interest in a stranger, and besides, I'm going to ring off now."

      "Oh, wait a minute! I don't sing, but I do something better. Don't ring off, just listen a minute."

      Patty listened, and in a moment she heard a violin played softly. It was played by a master hand, and she heard an exquisite rendition of the "Spring Song."

      "Beautiful!" she exclaimed, as the last notes died away, and then suddenly realising that she herself was acting in a most unconventional manner, she said abruptly, "Thank you; good-bye," and quickly hung up her receiver.

      For some time she sat thinking about it. Curled up in a big easy chair, her blue silk boudoir gown trailing around her, she sat giggling over her escapade.

      "It's all right," she assured herself, "for of course I know who he is, though he doesn't know me. He is Mrs. Homer's nephew, so it's just the same as if I had met him properly. And, anyhow, he hasn't an idea who I am, and he never can find out from the description he has of me!"

      Still giggling over the episode, Patty went to bed and to sleep.

      The next morning, as she thought it over, she realised that she hadn't succeeded in securing her fan, and she determined to go around and see Marie that afternoon, and get it.

      So that afternoon she went to make her call.

      "It was a beautiful party," she said to Marie, as the two girls chatted together. "I love games for a change from dancing, and the games you had were so novel."

      "I'm glad to hear you say that," said Marie, "for I was afraid they would seem too childish."

      "No, indeed," returned Patty; "and now put on your hat and come out with me for a little while. I'm going to a picture exhibition, and I'd love to have you go too. But first, did I leave my fan here last evening?"

      "There was a beautiful fan left here,—an Empire fan. Is this yours?"

      Marie produced the fan and Patty recognised it as her own.

      "But I can't go this afternoon," said Marie, "because Cousin Kit is coming down to practise some new music. Won't you stay and hear him play? He is really a very good violinist."

      Patty considered. She rather wanted to meet this young man, but she was afraid he would think her forward. So after a little further chat, she rose, saying she must go. And it was just as she was going out that Mr. Cameron came in, with his violin under his arm.

      Patty was obliged to pause a moment, as Marie presented her cousin, but the young man, though courteous, showed no interest whatever in Miss Fairfield. Patty's pretty face was almost invisible through her motor veil, and as Mr. Cameron had no idea that she was the girl who had talked to him the night before, and as he really had no interest in girls in general, he merely made a very polite bow and went directly toward the piano.

      "I wish you'd stay and hear some music," said Marie, but Patty only murmured a refusal, not wanting Mr. Cameron to hear her voice, lest he recognise it.

      He was an attractive looking man of fine physique and handsome face, but he looked extremely dignified and not very good-natured.

      "All musicians are cross," Patty thought to herself as she went down in the elevator, "and I wasn't going to have that man think that I went around to Marie's to see him!"

      She decided to call for Elise to go to the art gallery with her, and she found that young woman ready and glad to go.

      "I hadn't a thing to do this afternoon," said Elise, as they started off, "and I love to go anywhere with you, Patty. Shall we have a cup of tea afterwards?"

      And so it was after they had seen the pictures, and as they were sitting in a cosy little tea-room, that Elise said suddenly:

      "Do you know Mr.