Patty's doing, not his, that Azalea was there at all, but he felt
personally to blame for having such a relative and for having her there
in their home. He looked helplessly at Patty, with such despair in his
kind eyes, that she ran over and kissed him, in spite of the fact that
they were not alone.

Azalea giggled. "That's right," she said, affably; "don't mind me! Just
go right on spoonin' even when I'm around. I don't mind. And I don't
wonder you took to her, Cousin William. She's a peach, for fair,--ain't
she?"

"She certainly is," said Farnsworth, forcing a polite smile, but
conscious of a strong desire to choke his new-found relative.

His utterly discouraged face roused Patty to fresh efforts at
hospitality, and taking Azalea's arm, she persuaded her to get up
from the lounging chair.

On her feet, the girl shook herself with a careless abandon of manner,
unheeding the fact that a hairpin flew from her loosened hair, and she
dropped the handkerchief, gloves and small bag that she had had in her
lap.

"Oh, pshaw," she said, as Bill restored them, "ain't I awful! That's
me--dropping things all the time! But I can pick them up myself--don't
you be bothering."

She stuffed gloves and handkerchief in the bag, slinging it on
her arm. "My, what a vine!" she said, pulling down a branch of the
wistaria,--and, incidentally, breaking it off.