her head, and crossing her feet, which were dressed with "gun metal"
stockings and shoes. Her hat was pushed awry, and wisps of hair fell
at either side of her face.

"Now, perhaps you'd like to go to your room," suggested Patty, at her
wits' end what to do with such an unconventional person.

"Nixy; I'm too comfortable here! I'll chuck my hat, and just enjoy
myself."

Off came the hat, and was pitched on the floor. Azalea ran her fingers
through her hair, making it a little more disordered than before. It was
pretty hair,--or, rather would have been, if it were better cared for.
Dark, almost black, with a slight inclination to curl, it was bunched
into a tousled knot that was far from picturesque.

"Oh, come," said Patty, jumping up, for she couldn't stand the girl's
uncouth actions another minute. "Come along with me, Azalea. You must
dress for dinner soon,--and some one might come to call now. We'll have
tea in your room, if you like."

"Tea! I never drink it. I like coffee,--for breakfast,--or cocoa. But see
here, Cousin, don't you make any difference for me. I ain't company, you
know,--just let me be one of the family, won't you?"

Many retorts flashed through Patty's mind, but she only said, "Certainly,
Azalea. We want you to be one of us."

Farnsworth was silent. The man was really aghast. What had he brought on
poor little Patty! He didn't excuse himself with the thought that it was