measure, for he dearly loved to have his beautiful home appreciated, and he beamed, and rubbed his hands together with a general air of satisfaction.
"Yes, yes," he said, "it is fine,—fine! There isn't another such place for miles around."
Then they went into the drawing-room and Patty was presented to her Aunt Isabel.
Mrs. St. Clair was a fair, large woman, with golden hair, elaborately frizzed, and kind blue eyes. She was fashionably dressed, and her silks rustled and her bugles tinkled as she came forward to meet her visitor.
"I am charmed to see you, Patty, my dear," she said, kissing her affectionately.
"And I am very glad to be here, Aunt Isabel," said Patty, and just then she was interrupted by the violent entrance of what seemed to be a small pink cyclone.
This was the eight year old Florelle, and without a doubt it was she who was responsible for the shrieks Patty had heard.
The child wore a short, beruffled dress of pink silk, a huge pink sash, and pink stockings and slippers. Her eyes were reddened with crying
