the meetings unless she chose; but, as a rule, a large majority of the
club was present.

And so to-day, in the library at Polly Stevens's house, nine members of
the Tea Club were chattering like nine large and enthusiastic magpies.

"Now we can go on with the entertainment," said Lillian Desmond, as she
sat on the arm of Patty's chair, curling wisps of the presidential hair
over her fingers. "If Patty had gone away, I should have resigned my part
in the show and gone into a convent. Where are you going to live, Patty?"

"I don't know, I am sure; we haven't selected a house yet; and if we
don't find one we like, papa may build one, though I believe Marian has
one all picked out for us."

"Yes, I have," said Marian. "It's the Bigelow house on our street. I do
want to keep Patty near us."

"The Bigelow house? Why, that's too large for two people. Patty and Mr.
Fairfield would get lost in it. Now, I know a much nicer one. There's a
little house next-door to us, a lovely, little cottage that would suit
you a lot better. Tell your father about it, Patty. It's for sale or
rent, and it's just the dearest place."

"Why, Laura Russell," cried Marian, "that little snip of a house! It
wouldn't hold Patty, let alone Uncle Fred. You only proposed it because
you want Patty to live next-door to you."

"Yes; that's it," said Laura, quite unabashed; "I know it's too little,
but you could add ells and bay-windows and wings and things, and then it